


After the Fall

by SunshineOnACloudyDay



Series: The Lone Wolf, The Philanderer, and the Ashen Demon [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Goddess blessed Byleth, Grief/Mourning, Other, Sothis is a troublemaker, beginning of the war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25715137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineOnACloudyDay/pseuds/SunshineOnACloudyDay
Summary: Chapters depicting the duration of the time-skip.Byleth is gone. Felix and Sylvain have to deal with their grief as the war continues. Unbeknownst to them, Byleth only sleeps. Romantic and platonic relationships are formed and strengthened as the fighting continues.Continuation of the story that began with Bottom of the Well.Mature rating for cursing and some light sexual content. CONTAINS SPOILERS FROM THE OTHER ROUTES! IF YOU HAVE ONLY PLAYED AZURE MOON AND DON'T WANT SPOILERS... DO NOT READ.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Sylvain Jose Gautier/My Unit | Byleth
Series: The Lone Wolf, The Philanderer, and the Ashen Demon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1825147
Comments: 65
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

~Felix~ 

_Fraldarius._

_The courtyard is warm, sunlight filters onto the cobblestone as he takes in his surroundings. The trees are blooming in Faerghus’ version of spring, it has always been his favorite time of year. The first thing he hears is the sound of training swords clashing, and he turns toward the training room door of his childhood home._

_It opens with a familiar squeak of the hinges, and his eyes land on raven hair, long and braided down the young man’s back. The clashing swords stop and Glenn turns to face him. He looks just as he did the day he left for Duscur, not much older than Felix is now. “So, you decided to show, baby brother?” His tone is teasing, but his eyes are warm and there’s a playful smirk on his lips as Felix steps further into the room._

_“Hey Fe.” His breath hitches in his throat as Byleth steps out from behind Glenn with a warm smile on her face. Before he even registers what it is he’s doing, he’s running and wrapping her up in his arms as she chuckles softly. He holds her tightly, more tightly than he’s ever let himself hold her before._

_Tears stream down his face as he buries his face in her dark blue hair, breathing in the smell of sword oil and lavender that has become so familiar and soothing to him. She runs her small hand along his back and whispers, “What’s wrong, Fe?”_

_Glenn snorts derisively and retorts, “My baby brother is a crybaby, he always has been. Who knows what set him off this time?”_

_Byleth grasps his shoulders in her small but strong hands, and pushes him back so she can look into his eyes. His vision is slightly blurry from the tears still streaming down his face as he stares at her. Her eyes are filled with concern as she brushes the tears from his cheeks with calloused thumbs. “Fe... It’s alright. There’s no need to cry.”_

_Glenn smacks a hand on his shoulder and pulls him close. He can feel the warmth of his brother, a feeling he hasn’t felt in so long. “You’re in the way of our fight, little brother. I’ve been waiting ages for this. Someone has to show Byleth what Fraldarius men are made of!” It’s an insult, but it’s said with a tenderness that is so very Glenn that it fills his chest with warmth and a little longing._

_This is certainly a dream, the very best dream._

_Byleth laughs and it’s so clear and bright that he stares, even as a heat spreads to his cheeks in what is probably a spectacular blush that Glenn will surely give him shit for. Byleth elbows Glenn playfully, a wry smirk on her lips, and says, “You haven’t seen him fight, Glenn. Your little brother has come far under my tutelage. I doubt you’ll be able to do much better.” The wry smirk shifts into a warm smile as her blue eyes land on him. He reaches out and intertwines their fingers, and she steps closer to tilt her head to rest it on his shoulder._

_Glenn looks between them and laughs, a full belly laugh that sounds so much like his father’s. He shakes his head and raises his training sword. “Enough of this. I expected a fight!”_

_“Well, a fight you will get. Let this be a lesson.” The weight on his shoulder lifts and Byleth steps away, further into the ring. Felix unconsciously takes a few steps back to watch Glenn and Byleth circle each other. He blinks and he can’t tell who moved first. They move like water, fluid and graceful, but strike like lightning. The sound of their swords clashing echoes off the stone walls and the familiarity of the sound eases some of the tension from his shoulders. He smiles as he watches them duck, weave, and dance around each other. It’s the fight he’s always wanted to watch, between some of the people he cares about most._

_An ache forms in his chest as his vision begins to blur with tears again. Glenn and Byleth move in slow motion as his eyes follow them across the floor. Suddenly the room begins to shake. It almost sounds like thunder as the floor begins to crack. He yells for them with a hoarse voice, “Glenn! Byleth!” They turn to him slowly, eyes wide, and the floor opens up. They fall, reaching for him helplessly, and he watches as his heart seems to rip from his chest._

_He runs forward, desperately pleading to them, “Don’t leave me!” It echoes in his mind as he falls forward into the darkness._

He sits up in his bedroll, desperately trying to breathe as his chest heaves and tears stream down his face. Sylvain crawls toward him and in a voice thick with sleep whispers, “It’s okay, Fe. It was just a nightmare.”

He flings himself into Sylvain’s chest, needing something to hold, because everything feels like its crashing around him. His breathing is too rapid, and he’s not getting enough air. His head feels light as he buries his face in Sylvain’s shirt. Distantly he feels Sylvain’s large hand rubbing circles in his back as he whispers comforting words, but all he sees over and over, is Glenn and Byleth as they fall. Their wide eyes and faces full of terror.

In a hoarse voice he whispers, “She’s gone. She’s really gone.” Sylvain doesn’t say anything, he just continues to rub his back until his breathing regulates. Sylvain shifts them back to lay them both on their sides as Felix continues to keep his face buried in his shirt. The tears finally stop, but the ache and longing in his chest is a physical pain that he fears won’t go away any time soon.

He shifts away from Sylvain as embarrassment floods through him. He hasn’t cried in so long, and to do so in front of Sylvain… 

But Sylvain follows, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him against his warmth. “It’s okay, Fe. It’s just me.” Sylvain sniffles, and he realizes the redhead is crying, as well. They are both hurting. They’ve both just lost their friend. He tells himself that it’s for this reason, he doesn’t pull away. 

_Byleth is gone._ The ache in his chest becomes sharper and he curls up a little more in the bedroll. Sylvain wraps his larger frame around him, and they don’t say anything more as they both grieve in silence.

The group was somber as they traveled in the direction of Fraldarius. It was common to hear sniffling and quiet crying as they rode, or ate their meals. Their lives were so different now. The former Black Eagles had lost their homes and families, and had been betrayed by people they were close to. The Blue Lions had lost their professor, friend, and confidante. Byleth’s loss was felt by everyone, but Felix couldn’t find the emotional energy to do anything about it. Not that that was his area of expertise anyway. Sylvain made the rounds, comforting those who needed it, letting people cry into his shoulder. He was looking out for everyone, just as Byleth asked them to. And when he wasn’t looking out for everyone else, he was with Felix.

Ingrid left them at the border of Galatea territory, citing that she needed to check in with her father so he knew she survived. She promised to write and come up to help if she was needed. The boar left the morning after they camped just outside the town near Conand Tower. He had been his usual, boarish self. He whispered to himself at all hours of the day as they marched, and everyone gave him a wide berth. Bernadetta was openly terrified of him, staying far far away, while the likes of Dorothea, Ingrid, Mercedes, and Annette looked on in something akin to pity. The boar raved about how he was going to make Edelgard suffer, how she was going to pay for the death of those in Duscur and the death of their beloved professor. 

Felix couldn’t even find the energy to hate him anymore.

On the third day of travel, they were greeted with raised swords at the edge of Fraldarius, until Emery flew close enough and he announced himself. The knights apologized profusely, informing him that his old man had ordered extra patrols over the last week. They let them pass, and the mercenaries escorted them all the way to the gates of his family’s home.

They were met by knights, and one of them ran off to inform his father of their arrival. Stable hands rushed out to take the horses, and as they landed on Emery, they took her in as well. Felix stayed by Sylvain’s side as he gave the servants rushed instructions on how to care for the wyvern.

Sylvain turned to him with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and said, “I’ll have to have someone build a stable just for Emery at Gautier Manor. My father will be thrilled.”

The thought of Sylvain leaving him alone in Fraldarius sent a spike of fear through him, and it must have shown, because Sylvain put a gentle hand on his arm and whispered, “I’ll stay as long as I can. Don’t worry.”

“Felix!” His mother’s worried voice cried out from the door, and she ran toward him and wrapped him in a too tight embrace. “Oh, my heart… We’ve been so worried. I’m so glad you’re safe.” Felix buried his head in his mother’s shoulder and clung to the back of her dress. She stroked his hair and whispered, “I couldn’t bear it if I lost you.”

 _“Couldn’t bear losing another son”_ went unspoken but echoed through his mind all the same.

“Felix! Sylvain! I’m so glad to see you are both safe. The Margrave will be pleased.” Sylvain grunted in bitter acknowledgment and his father clapped a hand on his shoulder and glanced around. His eyes searched the crowd, and Felix’s chest tightened as his blue eyes became pitying and turned back to him. “Miss Byleth…”

“She’s gone.” He bit the inside of his cheek until it bled and his mother put a hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. 

His father’s face fell, and he was quiet for a moment before he said, “I’m sorry, my son. I’m so very sorry.” The transition from pitying father to the Lord Fraldarius happened in an instant as he turned to the rest of the group. “Welcome to House Fraldarius. I am sorry for the circumstances, but you are all welcome just the same. Rooms are being prepared for anyone who needs a place to stay, but for now, why don’t we move inside to discuss everything?”

Joel stepped forward with a clearing of his throat. “If you don’t mind, Lord Fraldarius, my crew and I will be heading out.”

“You are from the Blade Breaker’s crew, are you not?” His father’s icy blue eyes looked over the portion of the mercenary crew that had traveled with them.

“Yes sir. Boss’ last orders were to get the kids here if something happened to her. Now that that is done, we’ll need to go and meet up with the rest of our crew.”

Leonie stepped forward. “I’m coming with you.” 

Joel nodded shortly, “Boss told me you’re in.” She nodded, her face filled with sadness, and hefted her pack back onto her shoulder before walking toward the rest of the mercenaries with nods of goodbye to the other students.

His father smiled sadly and waved a hand. “Please, come in for just a moment. I’ll give you proper payment for the safe return of my son and his friends and then you can be on your way.”

Joel nodded and bowed slightly. “Thank you, my Lord. That is very kind of you.”

“Gloriana, my love. Will you take the children in to get something to eat?” His mother nodded and took Felix’s hand to pull him inside. 

It was only a week later when a knight came with a message for his old man. When he opened it, he fell back into a chair and put a hand to his head. 

“What is it, old man?” All of them (except for Bernadetta, who would not leave the room she had been given) were in the sitting room, discussing what their next plans would be. 

Everyone craned their necks to look at Rodrigue as he said, “The King Regent is dead. His Highness has been charged with regicide. He is set to be executed in two days’ time.” Everyone was silent, confusion and fear written all over their faces, as they stared at his old man. He shook his head and folded the message before storing it in the inside pocket of his coat. “I need to get to Fhirdiad immediately. Please, excuse me.”

After his father walked out, Sylvain stood quickly and turned to Ashe. “We should go. Your siblings should be arriving soon, and this…” Sylvain raised a hand to his head. “… this changes everything.” Ashe nodded and ran out of the room, and Felix walked out after Sylvain.

“Do you think the boar did it?” 

Sylvain’s stride was quick as he walked toward his room. “I can’t believe he would kill Rufus... I just can’t. I know he wasn’t really himself anymore, but to kill his own uncle?” He sighed and shook his head before adding, “But none of that matters now. I have to get home.” He pushed open the door and started throwing the few things he had into his bag. When he was done, he turned toward Felix. “I really don’t want to go.”

Felix crossed his arms and looked off to the side. “What? You don’t want to be stuck with your asshole father?”

Sylvain chuckled dryly and walked forward to stand right in front of him. “Well… that. But also…” He became quiet and Felix turned to look at him. He was pale and his hands were shaking, the façade he’d been portraying for days was starting to crumble under this new strain. “I wish I could stay here with you, Fe.”

Felix softened, if only slightly, and said, “I’m sure we’ll see each other soon enough.” Sylvain nodded and walked over to sling his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t die on your way to Gautier, or I’ll come and kill you myself.”

Sylvain let out another dry chuckle and rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Annette and Mercedes left for Dominic territory that afternoon because Annette was worried about her uncle and her mother. Bernadetta, Dorothea, Caspar, and Linhardt looked lost as they wandered around Fraldarius. He felt bad for them, being stuck in a place they didn’t know because they couldn’t go home. This war had already taken so much from them, and Felix had a feeling this was only the beginning. 

It felt like the entirety of Fodlan was a bowstring pulled taut, and everyone was holding their breath to see if it would break.

~Sylvain~

When he and Ashe arrived at the gates of Gautier Manor, Ashe’s siblings were playing in the courtyard. When Emery landed, Ashe practically flew off the saddle and into his siblings as they laughed, cried, and held each other. Sylvain looked away as jealousy reared its ugly head for a moment. He looked back when Ashe’s sister grabbed his hand and pulled on it. She smiled up at him and said, “Thank you for letting us stay here.” He ruffled her hair and the jealousy faded. They were happy and safe, that was all that really mattered.

His mother ran out the door and pulled him into a hug. “Sylvain! You’re home! I was so relieved when we got word from Rodrigue.” Sylvain hugged her lightly and when she stepped away, she said, “Your father wants to see you.” She ordered some of the servants to take Ashe and his siblings to their rooms before leading him to his father’s study.

He took a deep breath outside the door before walking in. His father looked up from some parchment on his desk and looked him over. “You’re back alive, I see. Good.” The Margrave nodded and reached over to a stack of documents on his desk. He then held them out to Sylvain.

Sylvain didn’t move to take them. Instead he asked, “What are those?” 

His father narrowed his eyes and said, “Proposals. With the Prince bound for execution, the Kingdom is in complete disarray. It is more important now, than ever before, that you take a wife and produce a Crest-bearing heir.”

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as his body began to shake. “Byleth is dead.”

His father had the audacity to look at him like he was stupid. “She was only one option, Sylvain. The preferable option, sure, what with her rare Crest. Not to mention the blessing from the—”

Sylvain hissed, “Don’t say another fucking word.”

The Margrave’s eyes narrowed as he set down the stack of papers. He stood slowly and said, “What did you just say to me?”

Sylvain was screaming as all of his anger and frustration seemed to burst out at a single moment. “Byleth, one of my best friends, the girl who has saved my life too many times to count, is dead! Dimitri, my friend since childhood, is about to be executed. And you… you’re sitting here telling me to get MARRIED?! There’s a fucking WAR going on and all you care about is an heir!”

His father slammed his hands into the desk. Golden brown eyes so like his were filled with disdain. “That’s precisely why you need to get married! There is a war! Who knows when the fighting will reach our doorstep?! If the Gautier line is to survive, you need to marry immediately and produce a Crest-bearing heir!”

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE!” The Margrave stared daggers at him, and he glared right back. “I swear, if you bring this up again, I’ll leave and never come back.” He didn’t give his father time to respond. He tore open the door and almost ran into his mother in the hallway. She stared up at him with tear filled eyes, a small pale hand covered her mouth.

He walked past her and practically ran to his room. He could hear her footsteps trailing behind him, but she didn’t say anything. _She never fucking does._ He threw his door open and paced at the foot of his bed, hot anger still coursing through him. His mother followed him in and shut the door behind her.

She stood near the door and hesitantly whispered, “Byleth… your friend…”

Sylvain froze as a lump grew in his throat. He’d been trying to hold it back ever since they found out. Felix had been so upset, and Sylvain wanted to be there for him. Who was he to bring up his feelings when his best friend probably felt the same, and had for so much longer than he had? Felix’s fury when Seteth first told them, and then him waking up sobbing and panicking that night. Sylvain couldn’t fall apart. He had to be there for the Lions, like Byleth asked him to.

But now, his eyes filled with tears as he turned to his mother and said, “She’s gone. I think I might have loved her… and she’s gone.” He fell to his knees as he started to sob. His chest physically ached as he tried to draw each new breath. His mother rushed forward and knelt beside him. She pulled his head into her shoulder and held him tight as his body trembled. “I shouldn’t have listened… I should have dragged her out of there. This is all my fault!”

“My boy… my sweet boy… I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” They knelt and cried together until Sylvain fell asleep in her arms. 

Word arrived soon after of the Prince’s execution. It was not done publicly, and they did not show a body. The last of the long revered Blaiddyd line, was dead. Imperial loyalist Cornelia, the court mage of almost twenty years, seized the throne. The Lords of the old western Kingdom swore fealty to Cornelia as she disbanded the old Kingdom and created the Faerghus Dukedom. Houses Fraldarius, Gautier, and a few others refused. 

Edelgard had already toppled the Kingdom before the fighting had even really begun.

~Byleth~

_She is flying through the sky, watching the earth below her. The world is colorful and full of life. She watches over Fodlan and the creatures that dwell upon her continent. Her wings are powerful as they carry her through the air. Her scales glow golden in the light of the sun. Her children wait for her on the ground, some in their human forms, others not._

_She lands, and a warmth spreads through her as she changes. Wings and talons are replaced with hands and feet as her children race toward her with open arms and happy faces. She feels love, so much love, as she embraces them. Seiros comes to stand at her side, smiling brightly at her brothers and sisters._

_The image fades._

_Another scene plays before her. “Mother, we must talk about the humans. They are becoming a threat to our peace.” Seiros paces before her in the throne room. Many of her other children stand off to the side, various emotions play across their faces. She knows they worry for her, and she knows they worry for their home. Zanado has been so peaceful, and they have learned to thrive here._

_A green haired man in mages robes with pointed ears steps forward. His face is serious, and his tone borders on distaste as he adds, “Seiros is right, mother. You are being too generous with your gifts. If they turn on us…”_

_“They will not!” Another man calls. A bow is strapped to his back and he glances around nervously at the people surrounding him. “Cichol is with them. He dwells among them peacefully. Cethleann’s very existence proves that we can live in peace.”_

_Seiros shakes her head with a heavy sigh before kneeling down before her. “Mother, we must be vigilant. The humans think themselves strong enough to contend with gods, even you the progenitor god. We must not allow them to have any more power.”_

_The image of the throne room fades._

_Smoke fills her lungs, making it hard to breathe. All she can see is destruction as she flies over the land. These wars have taken so much from her children, and from the very humans who began them. Her heart aches as she begins to hum. Magic flows through her and down to the earth, leaving behind life as she begins to sing her song._

**_“In time’s flow, see the glow of flames ever burning bright. On the swift rivers drift, broken memories alight.”_ **

_Flora and fauna spring where there were once only ashes. Green, the color that represents her and her children, spreads over the land. Grasses, trees, flowers, water, all of it springs from the land at her bidding. It is a gift for her children, it is a gift for the humans and other creatures that will dwell upon this continent._

_The energy required to heal the land is too much for even her. As she lands before her children, her limbs feel heavy and her muscles ache. All she feels is fatigue as she falls to the ground._ _Someone calls for her as she murmurs, “I must rest.”_

_Everything fades to darkness, once more._


	2. Chapter 2

~Sylvain~

Sylvain glances at the calendar on his desk and hangs his head with a heavy sigh. _Goddess… it’s been a year._ If he closes his eyes, he can almost picture green hair and green eyes, but the upward twitch of her mouth whenever she saw him, the crinkle in her eyes when she was happy, the sound of her laugh… all of these things have started to fade from his memory. The thought makes his whole body ache as he glances out his window, and out into the night.

It has been a long year. The Lions have hardly seen each other since they all went their own separate ways. He hasn’t even heard from Felix in at least six months. Sylvain sent a letter for his birthday, but hadn’t received a reply. It hurt, but he knew better than to push Felix into anything, especially when he was grieving. _At least… I assume he’s still grieving._

He glances down at the letter from Caspar that sits on his desk, and raises his eyebrow at the fact that it was sent from House Goneril. _No way… Caspar?!_ He chuckles and shakes his head. The enthusiastic brawler had stayed at House Fraldarius long enough to let his leg heal, but soon after had left to go “exploring”. Which really just meant that he was sick of being cooped up but didn’t want to fight against the Dukedom and Imperial soldiers that Felix and Sylvain were dealing with. _I wonder if he planned to go to Hilda the whole time…_ He had suspected they were into each other in the academy, but it was hilarious all the same.

He glanced at the next letter on his desk. It’s from Joel. It says the same thing it always says, “Still nothing on the boss. Taking a job from Lord Riegan in Derdrui. I’ll send word again in a couple months. Leonie says hello.” Joel isn’t much for details, but Sylvain appreciates the fact that he hears from Byleth’s old crew at all. _I wonder if Claude has heard anything._ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. If Claude had found her or her body, he wouldn’t keep it to himself. At least he hoped he wouldn’t.

Joel had first written to inform him that they searched for Byleth’s body for about two weeks, until they lost too many men to Imperial scouts and decided to give up. He still remembers curling up in his bed for the rest of the day after receiving that letter. Ever since then, they’ve been taking jobs in the Alliance. The Kingdom is too rocky to really work with and Joel swore they wouldn’t take any jobs from the “Empire bastards that started this goddess forsaken war”.

Next on the pile is another letter from Dorothea on the status of her makeshift orphanage she’s running. The ex-songstress grieved for a long time after the war started. She had been really close with Edelgard and Hubert, not to mention Ferdinand and Petra had basically betrayed them as well. He suspected that she and Petra had secretly been an item, but with the fact that the foreign princess sided with Edelgard… It had to have been rough.

She had somehow gotten in contact with Manuela and some of the other members of their old opera troop. They were running a makeshift orphanage near the Bridge of Myrddin. Imperial soldiers mostly left them alone, and if they didn’t… well… Dorothea was a competent mage. She took care of herself. Mercedes went down to visit and ended up staying to help with the kids, as well.  
  
When he heard a knock at the door, he called, “Come in!”

A yawn entered the room before Linhardt did. He slowly entered and walked across the room before plopping down on his bed with a sigh. “Burning the midnight oil again? How do you work so much? It must be tedious.”

Sylvain shook his head and chuckled. “I’m not working, I’m just trying to read through some of these letters. Caspar says hi, by the way.”

Linhardt stretched his whole body like a lazy cat and blinked over at him. “Did he make it to Goneril territory, then?”

Sylvain chuckled and shook his head as he stood and walked toward the bed. “So, that WAS his plan the whole time! I knew that whole “I want to go exploring” bit was a load of junk.”

Linhardt hummed in acknowledgement and Sylvain leaned down for a kiss. Linhardt slowly wrapped his arms around Sylvain’s neck and pulled him down to the bed. He readily agreed, climbing on top of the green haired mage. Blue eyes stared up at him with just a hint of lust. “Done for the night, then?”

Sylvain didn’t answer, he just leaned down and kissed down Linhardt’s neck as he quickly unbuttoned his tunic. Linhardt hummed in approval, arching his back as Sylvain dragged his teeth lightly across his pulse point. Linhardt’s hand moved down to the lacing of his pants and he groaned.

Felix had gotten sick of Linhardt pretty quickly after Caspar left. Because Linhardt didn’t really have anywhere else to go, Sylvain had offered him a place at Gautier manor. Lin talked to the Margrave about the value of Crests, making his father preen and give “I told you so” looks to Sylvain, but the Margrave didn’t know they were fucking so… joke was on him.

Linhardt had told him early on he didn’t think he’d ever be in love, or be interested in courting. They found something easy with one another. When the responsibilities his father was giving him became too stressful, he went to Linhardt. When Linhardt finished whatever subject he was studying about, he came to Sylvain. Linhardt got bored a lot, isolated up here in Gautier, and Sylvain knew his father would probably have a stroke if he ever found out. It was a win for both sides.

When they had their fill, Linhardt fell right to sleep. Sylvain laid in bed for a long time, staring up at the ceiling. _It's been a whole year… I can’t believe it._ Eventually, exhaustion set in and he fell asleep.

_Everything is dark as he glances around._

_What is this? Am I dreaming?_

_He hears someone humming softly and he turns toward the noise. He freezes as the air leaves his lungs. Byleth is suspended in the air in front of him. Her sea foam hair floats in gentle waves around her head, almost like she is floating in water. The Crest of Flames glows, golden, in front of her torso. She holds the sword of the creator to her chest as it glows with red orange light. Her face is peaceful, with a slight smile like she’s having a good dream._

_She still in the armor that she wore on the day of the Battle of Garreg Mach. Her armor is completely battered and there are so many rips in her tights that they barely exist anymore. He tries to remember if this is how she looked when he last saw her, but the images of her that day have started to fade from his memory. All he really remembers if how bad it hurt to hear she was gone._  
_Tears stream down his cheeks as his body moves toward her on shaky legs. He whispers, “Byleth…” and he realizes it’s been far too long since he’s said her name out loud. “I should have dragged you out of there… it’s my fault you’re gone.” The thought makes his chest ache as he reaches out a hand. The image starts to fade the closer he gets and, panicking, he quickly draws his hand back to his chest._

_His eyes do what his hands wish to. They gently flow from Byleth’s hair, across her closed eyes, down the bridge of her nose, trace the twist of her mouth. Her breathing is even, the rise and fall of her chest gives the illusion that she’s alive and well, right in front of him._

_He whispers, “Why am I torturing myself like this? This has to be a dream… some twisted part of my brain that wants me to be miserable forever…” He notices that the humming stops suddenly, but he doesn’t look away from Byleth’s face. He thinks he might have heard a huff of frustration, but before he can think too much about it, the image in front of him fades and…_

“Sylvain? Are you alright?” Linhardt hovers over him, concern shows in his big blue eyes as he lays a gentle hand on Sylvain’s wet cheek. 

His cheeks are wet. Oh goddess… He’s crying like an idiot. “Oh goddess… this is… I’m sorry.” He reaches up an arm and rubs it across his face in embarrassment. He and Linhardt definitely don’t have the type of relationship where this would be considered acceptable. He’ll probably leave and not want to come back and…

“Bad dream?” Linhardt’s voice is curious as he stretches, and then lays his head on Sylvain’s chest. He softly strokes a hand down Sylvain’s side as he yawns. Soft emerald hair splays across Sylvain’s skin and he hesitantly runs a hand through it.

His throat is still constricted with emotion and he breathes deeply for a while, trying to piece everything together. It had all seemed so real. Finally, when he feels calm enough, he says, “I guess?” It wasn’t a bad dream, but it hurt like one. Not that he would explain that to the guy he’s casually sleeping with who probably doesn’t give a damn anyway.

Linhardt raises his head and looks at him curiously. “You guess?” He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head in a way that makes him think of Byleth. _Ahhh… shit._

“Can I… ask you a question? Purely hypothetical?”

Linhardt covers a yawn and lays back down on his chest. “I suppose.”

Sylvain runs a hand through Linhardt’s hair, marveling not for the first time at how soft it is. Byleth was right about Lin’s hair. The memory of the night they went out for drinks flashes across his mind and he whispers, “Do you think Byleth could be… alive? Do you think she could have survived?”

Linhardt’s head pops up and he looks over him curiously again. Sylvain feels his cheeks flush, and he’s about to open his mouth to try and backpedal when Linhardt mutters, “It has been almost a year with no word… and Seteth did say she fell off a cliff. Though I suppose they haven’t found a body… But to survive that type of fall…” His eyebrows furrow in concentration and his lips purse. He knew better than to interrupt Linhardt when he was like this. He would spit out bits and pieces of each thought until he finally came to a conclusion. Sylvain continued to pet his hair while he waited for an answer.

After a few quiet moments, blue eyes flash to his and Linhardt nonchalantly says, “I guess it wouldn’t be the craziest thing she’s done. Though I’m struggling to think of anything that would keep her away from the Lions, especially you and Felix, if she were alive.” Linhardt shrugs a shoulder casually and lays back down before adding, “Now go back to sleep.”

Sylvain stares up at the ceiling as Linhardt’s breathing evens out. His mind races until the early morning light shows underneath the curtains, only then does he fall into a dreamless sleep.

“Sylvain… the door…” Linhardt nudges against him as a frantic knock sounds at the door, before promptly burying himself back in the pillows and blankets. _Lucky asshole._ He stumbles out of bed and wraps himself in a robe before cracking open the door to see grey hair and freckles.

“Sylvain! Thank the goddess. I just got a letter from Annette. Cornelia is enlisting her to fight with the Dukedom. She says if Annette doesn’t do it, she’ll be tried as a war criminal! She wants to leave, but her uncle won’t let her! He’s worried Cornelia may have someone monitoring her. We have to get her out of there!”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Sylvain holds up a hand to the frantic bow knight and opens the door further. “I promise we will go and help Annette. I’ll send for Felix. Maybe with a small skilled group we can get in and out without making too much of a scene.” _It’s the perfect excuse. He’ll come if it’s for Annette. Then I can make sure he’s okay. That’s all I want._ He walks back toward his desk and pulls out a quill and parchment, immediately penning a note for Felix and maybe Bernadetta… If he can get the poor girl out of her room, that is.

“You want to come, Lin?” 

Ashe makes a choking noise, and when Sylvain glances up, he’s red all the way up to the tips of his ears as he stares open mouthed at the bed. “I’m so sorry you have company and—”

“Ugh, with a chance of fighting? No, thank you. I’d much rather stay here.” Linhardt sits up in the bed and the sheets pool at his waist, revealing silky pale skin with Sylvain’s marks scattered across it. His emerald hair cascades down his shoulders and there’s an amused upturn of his lips directed at Ashe’s flustered antics. Sylvain feels a rush of blood head south as Ashe’s face becomes even more red, if that’s even humanly possible. 

Ashe turns around with his hands over his eyes, still stammering out apology after apology. It’s the first time anyone has seen them together, and Sylvain briefly wonders what that will mean before he tamps that down and focuses back on the letter. He finishes it, quickly folding it, stuffing it in an envelope, and sealing it. He holds it out for Ashe and says, “Have a messenger take this to Fraldarius immediately. I’ve asked them to meet us at an inn at the edge of the Itha Plains in three days’ time. Dominic territory is just north of Fhirdiad, so we’ll need to use discretion.” 

Ashe quickly walks forward and reaches out to take it from his hand, but he holds fast. With a wink he says, “Speaking of discretion… let’s be discreet about what you’ve seen, okay buddy?” 

Ashe’s eyes widen, pan to Linhardt, widen some more, and a furious blush breaks out AGAIN. It’s so entertaining he laughs, a real one that makes him feel like he hasn’t in way too long. Ashe nods vigorously and backs out of the door with a small bow and a yelped, “Thank you, Sylvain!”

Linhardt hums softly and eyes the door. “He’s just so… precious… isn’t he?” He tilts his head and turns to Sylvain, gently biting his lower lip. Blue eyes roam where his robe hangs open before darting back to his face. “Are you coming back to bed?”

With a wink and an exaggerated sultry tone, he says, “Ready for more, are you?” 

Linhardt rolls his eyes and lays back onto the pillows. “Never mind. Sleep sounds better anyway.” He flips over onto his stomach and buries his face in the pillows. However, when Sylvain walks over and trails kisses down his spine, he sings a very different tune.

~Felix~

It’s been almost a year since he’s seen Sylvain, and something that feels annoyingly close to nervousness runs through him as he and Bernadetta walk toward the entrance of the inn. Bernadetta clings to his arm and whimpers slightly until he says, “You’ll be fine. It’s just our friends.”

“B-But even you’re nervous!”

“I am NOT nervous!” Bernadetta drops her hold on his arm and stares down at the ground in shame and he immediately feels like a total asshole. “Look. I’m sorry, okay? It’s been a while since I’ve seen anyone. I guess I’m just… worked up.”

Bernadetta nods quickly and latches back onto his arm. He patted the back of her hand in an attempt at being comforting, and she whispered, “It’s okay. I understand.”

When he opened the door, the warm air of the tavern was welcome opposed to the freezing temperatures of Faerghus. He scanned the room and spotted Sylvain, Ashe, and a small group of what he could only assume was a group of dressed down knights sitting at a table in the far corner. Bernadetta shifted behind him slightly, and he lightly patted her arm before walking over.

Ashe smiled like a loon as soon as he spotted them and yelled with a big wave. Sylvain’s head turns and immediately his eyes go wide. Predictably, the first thing he says is, “Y-Your hair…” Sylvain tried to reach out to touch it, but Felix swatted his hand away.

He barked, “It’s short. So what?” It was new, cropped short at the sides with only a little length on the top. He’d had a maid cut it a few weeks ago.

Sylvain smiled, but it was sad, and it was accompanied by a little sigh. “It looks good, Fe.” He chuckled softly and added, “Byleth would be heartbroken.”

“Well, she’s dead! It’s not like she has an opinion about anything!” As soon as it came out of his mouth, he had to suppress the urge to cringe. He sounded so defensive and stupid, even to himself. Immediately everyone in the party went quiet and Bernadetta clutched his arm just a little bit tighter. Whether it was in an effort to comfort him, or because she was terrified, he wasn’t quite sure.

Ashe was bowing his head, staring intently at the cup in his hands. The knights were probably wondering what the hell was going on. An emotion he couldn’t quite pin down crossed Sylvain’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. He smiled, wide and fake, and said, “Well, you both look great! Especially you, Bernadetta. How is Fraldarius treating you?”

Bernadetta peeked out from behind him and squeaked out, “Gloriana is really nice, so is Rodrigue. It’s been… better.” A soft smile split her face until she realized that everyone was looking at her and she ducked back behind him with a yelp and a whine of, “stupid Bernie” that makes him want to throttle whomever made her act this way. If he ever meets Count Varley…

Sylvain looks between them in amusement, and he immediately hates where that bastard’s mind is going. He doesn’t bring it up though, all he does is introduce the knights to them and go over their plan. Sylvain has grown a bit, his shoulders are broader, and he looks… older. Looking him over makes Felix’s stomach twist into knots. _Why did the tall oaf get even taller?!_ The way he speaks has changed too. He’s more mature, somehow. He speaks like the Lord he’s going to become, and something about that makes him feel awkward. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t seen the real Sylvain since they arrived. Maybe it’s because he looks tired, and even though he’s putting on a good act, he seems sort of melancholy.

Sylvain continues, and he realizes he’s missed half of the plan because of his stupid gawking. “We’ll leave at dawn. We should be able to reach our destination just after nightfall so we can get in and out quickly. Any questions?” No one says anything, they all just nod in agreement and stand from the table. “Alright. Get some rest everyone.” Hopefully Bernadetta was paying attention and can tell him the rest later.

“Hey Fe? Want to grab a drink with me?” 

Felix crosses his arms with a scoff. “I don’t drink. I should get Bernadetta and I rooms, anyway.”

Ashe, ever eager to please, hops up with a big smile on his face. “Sylvain was really kind and already grabbed us all rooms. If it’s alright with you, Bernadetta, I can show you to your room?” Ashe holds out an arm, and Bernadetta looks to him.

“You don’t have to look at me for an answer. If you want to go you can, if you want to stay you can. It’s fine either way.” It’s a bit more biting than it probably should be, but she swallows heavily and nods, before leaving with an, already thanking her profusely for coming, Ashe.

Sylvain raises an eyebrow and calls over the waitress to order himself a drink as the other knights filter out. His voice held a weird tone as he said, “So… Bernadetta, huh? Wouldn’t have thought that was your type.”

Felix scoffed and turned away. “Don’t be ridiculous. She just… needs help sometimes.” With a sigh he adds, “She’s been a lot better recently, but it’s still hard for her to leave Fraldarius.”

“You’re saying it’s not…” Sylvain lifts an eyebrow suggestively and Felix actually punches him in the shoulder. Hard.

“I’m not like you. I don’t have to sleep with everyone within ten feet of me.” He groans in frustration as hurt flashes momentarily over Sylvain’s face before it vanishes behind the same fake nonchalant smile. “Goddess! I just feel like I have to--” _What do I feel like I have to do? Keep her safe? Help her feel like she can do things?_

Sylvain nods. “You just want to help. I get it. That’s sweet, Fe. Byleth would be happy--”

“Would you STOP?!” 

Sylvain quickly goes quiet as his eyebrows furrow with confusion. He softly says, “Stop what, Fe?” When Felix doesn’t answer immediately, he adds in a slightly more irritated tone, “I’m just trying to talk to you. I haven’t heard from you in over six months. I’ve been worried.”

“Well I’m fucking glad I didn’t write to or visit you if all you’re going to talk about is…” He can’t even say her damn name. _Coward._ “…her! Just stop! I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”

Sylvain’s gaze softens as he leans forward and puts a hand near his on the table, not touching, just close. “Fe, I wasn’t trying to upset you. I’m sorry I just—”

Felix instinctively moves away, crossing his arms as he shifts back in the chair. “You just thought I’d want to talk about someone who’s been dead for a year, because we used to spend time with her. I get it, whatever.”

Sylvain doesn’t often glare, but when he does, it’s enough to make even him feel uncomfortable. “What the hell are you talking about?! Don’t you dare talk about Byleth like you don’t care about her. That’s not fair to her, that’s not fair to me, that’s not fair to anyone!”

“At least I’m not still hung up on her a year later!”

“Fe…”

“Geez… I knew you were pathetic… but this…”

“That’s enough.”

“…we’ve been here all of two minutes and you’ve already brought her up twice. Get over it! She’s dead!” It’s like poison spewing from his mouth, it burns on his tongue, but he can’t stop it. He sees the way it makes hurt and anger flash across Sylvain’s face. It’s the first genuine emotion he’s seen the whole night. He’d be proud of the fact that he managed to crack Sylvain's bullshit mask, if it didn’t just make him feel like such an asshole.

Sylvain stands so quickly the chair almost falls over. The mead in his glass shakes with the table, and Felix stares right back into Sylvain’s glare. “You’ve gone too far this time, Felix.” Sylvain doesn’t even look at him before he walks away, and honestly, Felix can’t blame him. 

He waits for Sylvain to leave the room before he stands and throws a few coins on the table for the server. 

_I knew it was a bad idea to come._

The next day was filled with nothing but travel. Sylvain stayed toward the front, so he stayed in the back. Bernadetta rode beside him, casting what she probably thought were sneaky glances at him with concern in her eyes. Sylvain had been correct about the timeframe. It was right after nightfall when they got into Dominic territory.

As they enter the territory, everyone stopped as Sylvain raised a hand and muttered, “Dear goddess…” He dismounted from his horse as he pulled out his axe and summoned a small fire spell in his hand. By the light of the moon, Felix can barely make out the mangled bodies of Imperial troops, strewn about what was probably their campsite.

Bernadetta is immediately on high alert, warily scanning the area as she holds her bow in her steady hands. He would feel proud, but he’s kind of busy fighting the bile in his throat at the smell and image before him. The bodies are… it’s disgusting. He turns away from a particularly gruesome one and mutters, “I’ve only known one person who killed like this.” The boar prince’s face flashes across his mind and he has to suppress a shiver and stamp down an annoying flicker of grief. _He wasn’t Dima anymore anyway…_

Sylvain turns quickly, and in the light of his small fire spell in his hand, they meet eyes for the first time since their argument last night. “Do you think it could be him?”

Felix scoffs and shakes his head as uneasy creeps into his chest. His tone wasn’t nearly as biting as he wanted it to be as he answered, “You sound just like the old man. Don’t tell me you believe all of that nonsense about him still being alive? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Sylvain steps closer, so close that he can feel the warmth of the fire radiating from his palm. His eyes hold an intensity that he hasn’t seen in a long time. It makes him shiver a little, or that might just be the chill of the wind. “You don’t think it’s weird that Cornelia never showed proof? You don’t think it’s odd that his body was never paraded around the streets to further cement her claim for the throne?”

Something twists in his gut, and he has to turn away. Unfortunately, the now cold bodies of the dead Imperial soldiers scattered around are worse to look at, so his gaze makes its way back to Sylvain’s face. His voice comes out softer than he means to when he says, “I don’t know.”

When it comes to the execution of the boar prince, his feelings are as complicated as they always were. He settles it all with the fact that it wasn’t really Dimitri anymore. He was basically mad by the time Cornelia ordered his execution. Byleth’s death severed the last thread of sanity he had, and they all knew it. It’s just annoying that Cornelia is on the throne now. For purely practical reasons he sometimes wishes things had been different. Or maybe wishes that he would have done something to try and stop it all from getting this bad. But that’s all purely practical.

Ashe and the other knights circle him and Sylvain, facing outward with their weapons to set a guarded perimeter around the heirs. It makes him huff in annoyance, but Ashe ignores him as he says, “Do you think Annette is okay?”

Sylvain snaps back into leader mode, and he waves a hand as he calls, “Let’s go find out.”

It takes them about an hour to reach the home where Annette lives with her mother and uncle. _I wonder what the deadbeat is doing… other than abandoning his wife and child, of course._ He mentally rolls his eyes as they approach from the side, sticking to the shadows and eventually hiding in the bushes to avoid the few knights that are patrolling the grounds. 

Ashe splits off at Sylvain’s signal, walking to one of the windows and tossing a rock like something out of a sickening novel. After a moment, the window slowly creaks open and a bag is flung down. Annette’s head pops out, before it quickly disappears again. Ashe shoots them a thumbs up, before looking back up at the window. A few seconds later, Annette drops to the ground, and Ashe watches her back as they rush back to cover.

Annette practically flings herself at Ashe with a familiar, bubbly giggle. She throws a hand over her mouth as her eyes go wide, apparently having forgotten that they were supposed to be sneaking her out of here. Felix can’t help the upward twitch of his lips when she gives him a quick hug, though. Sylvain is openly beaming when he gets his hug, and he whispers, “Let’s get you out of here. Are you sure you have everything?”

Felix clicks his tongue and whispers, “It’s Annette.”

Sylvain's eyes meet his as he chuckles softly. In a teasing tone he whispers, “You’re right. We’ll get you everything you forgot once we get back to Gautier.”

Annette yelps an indignant, “Hey!” before Ashe clasps a hand over her mouth with a shake of his head. He whispers, “We have to be quiet, Annette. We just passed a camp of massacred Imperial troops. We don’t know if the killer is nearby, and we don’t know whether they are a friend or an enemy.”

Her eyes widen and when Ashe removes his hand, she whispers, “Have you guys heard the reports of the One-Eyed Demon?”

Bernadetta whimpers, “O-One-Eyed D-D-Demon?!” She latches onto Felix arm, and with a sigh he pats her hand and lets her move closer. Too close, but he knows she needs it.

Annette nods while looking around warily. “There’s someone going around killing Imperial troops in Faerghus territory. They say he’s huge and he only has one eye… but not very many people have actually seen him. Well… and lived to tell the story, that is.”

After a moment of chilled silence from the group, Sylvain whispers, “We can talk about this later. For now, we need to get you out of here.”

They give a wide berth to the massacred camp, traveling out of their way for a bit before making camp when they are far enough away from Dominic territory. The sky is starting to lighten as Felix crawls into a tent. He tenses when Sylvain crawls in soon after. _Why did he come in this one? Why didn’t he go with Ashe? Damn it!_

Sylvain doesn’t say anything, he just rolls out his bedroll and crawls in, laying down with his back turned to Felix. Felix crawls into his, and turns away as well, stamping down the urge to say something to try and make up for what he said last night. It would be a futile attempt at best, so he bites his tongue and tries to get comfortable. 

Right as he’s about to drift off, he hears a rustle behind him. He stays still, trying to figure out what Sylvain is doing. A moment later, he feels a light hand on his side, which leaves as quick as it came. Sylvain is still for a while before he whispers, “Felix… are you awake?”

He grumbles back, “I shouldn’t be.”

Sylvain scoots closer, until Felix can feel the heat of his body behind him. Every muscle in Felix’s body tenses. It been so long since they’ve been close like this. Eventually he whispers, “Can I ask you a question, Fe?” Felix grunts in agreement, and Sylvain stays quiet for a minute before he whispers, “Why did you really cut your hair?”

Felix spits out, “Why does it matter?” as his body tenses even further. His jaw tightens, and his hands form fists near his chest.

Sylvain doesn’t say anything for a moment, and all Felix can hear is the sounds of their breathing. After a deep breath he whispers, “I just…”, another deep breath, “you’ve always had it long. I wondered if there was a reason.”

There was a reason. He had dreamed of Byleth the previous night. It was like he could see her there, in front of him. He had to fight off the ache in his chest and the burn in his eyes for a long time. When he eventually rolled out of bed and glanced up at his calendar, he realized it was his birthday. That brought back the flood of memories from his last one, the sword, the extra training, Byleth’s smile. He had stared at the sword Byleth had given him for a long time, and allowed himself to openly think about her for the first time in far too long. 

When he went down to breakfast, the first thing out of his old man’s mouth was, “Happy birthday, son." Which wasn't a bad thing, until he ruined it like the old man always does. He smiled sadly and added, "Every year you look more and more like Glenn.” 

His mother’s eyes had filled with tears, and she tried to look away to hide it, but he had seen it. He had immediately left the room, called for a maid, and had her cut off his hair. He had immediately hated it, but he wouldn’t tell anyone else that. His mother had looked concerned, but had wisely kept her mouth shut. The old man tried to apologize later, but Felix had stormed out, as usual. 

His throat constricted and his voice was barely a whisper as he said, “I’m nineteen.” _Glenn never got to be nineteen._

It went unsaid, but it seemed Sylvain understood anyway. Sylvain whispered, “Can I…?” and put his hand hesitantly on Felix’s side. When he didn’t move away, Sylvain wrapped his arm around him and pulled him close. Sylvain held onto him for a few moments and whispered, “I’m glad you’re here, Fe. I’ve missed you.” 

Felix scoffed and wiggled out of Sylvain’s hold as his stomach flipped. Sylvain dropped his arms and turned away with a whispered, “Goodnight.”

 _I’ve missed you, too._ That also goes unsaid, but he hoped Sylvain got it anyway.

~Byleth~

_All she felt was pain, so much pain. It felt like she was being ripped to pieces. She WAS being ripped to pieces. Her spine was ripped from her body, her blood was drained slowly as the pain became agonizing. She tried to scream, but nothing would come out. Her body was no more, but she still felt it all so intensely. Mages in robes and masks were chanting in the distance, and she felt powerful dark magic fill the air, unlike anything she had ever felt. Terror began to shake her very soul._

_Who were these vile humans, disrupting her rest? Who were they to defile her body? Where were her children? Were they alright? How had these monsters gotten into this Holy Tomb, her sacred resting place? She wanted to scream, cry, or fight, but the pain was too much for her._

_Everything faded to darkness._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! Chapter two and we are officially a year into the time skip. Poor boys are having a rough time of it, but things aren't quite as dark and gloomy as they were last chapter. Right?
> 
> Can you tell I love my babies, Ashe and Bernadetta? Because I do. We are going to be giving Bernadetta some recovery because she deserves love and happiness. Also Ashe and Annette have been sticking things out long distance while a war is going on and I love that they are going to be together again.
> 
> Did you like that Dimitri easter egg? My heart is hurting for the poor boy.
> 
> Let me know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to me... have a chapter to celebrate.

~Felix~

_Another battle._ He spun to face his latest enemy, a mere child in Imperial armor, and looked away before he could see the life leave his eyes. _Three years of war. Three years of these bloody battles._ His Thoron spell took out a cavalier, who’s horse fled the battlefield with its eyes wide with terror. He glanced around and spotted Bernadetta shooting from the trees, sniping down Imperial soldiers as they charged against Fraldarius knights. He sprinted forward as an axe wielder crept up behind her.

He shouted, “Get down!” Bernadetta’s eyes widened as she immediately dropped to the ground. His Thoron spell burned through his veins and fingertips, but slowed the enemy enough for Bernadetta to draw her silver sword and finish him. “Are you alright?” His massaged the veins in his casting arm, hissing at the pain from the hastily fired spell. _I’m not good enough. I should have taken my reason lessons more seriously._

She nodded hurriedly, eyes already scanning the battlefield. “C-Can we go home soon?” Her grey eyes were tired, and there was a tremor in her hands as she redrew her bow and strung an arrow.

“There’s not many of them left. As soon as we take out the last of them, we’ll leave the rest of the work for the knights.” She nodded and her grey eyes shot to a mage charging towards them. Her arrow struck him in the throat, cutting off the fire spell that had been forming in his palm.

Felix grit his teeth and ran back out into the field, cutting down any Imperial in his path. It was common now for the Imperial and Dukedom soldiers to attack the border of Fraldarius. It seemed like there was a new attack every week. He remembered so vividly, his desire to always be fighting. His desire for more training so he could become stronger. _If only I had known…_

His sword felt like an extension of himself, an extension that killed and maimed. The familiar feeling of Byleth’s blessing ran through him, soothing some of the ache in his muscles as he battled against an enemy swordsman. The pit in his stomach grew as the man muttered a name as he died. 

_A family member? A lover? A friend? How many people must be scorning him for killing their loved one? How many people cried at night because of the people he had killed?_

He often reminds himself that they are the enemy. They are charging into his home, and threatening the citizens of his territory. No matter what he tells himself, he knows that they are just soldiers following orders. The thought makes him sick if he dwells on it too much, so he doesn’t. _For three years I’ve fought in the name of protecting Fraldarius. I’ve cut down hordes of enemy soldiers. Now I’m no better than the boar was. All I’m good for is destruction and violence._

Byleth had tried to warn him about this, all those years ago. She had warned him that only following the pursuit of growing stronger would do nothing for him. She had wanted more for him. She had asked him what other ambitions he had. _What a fool I was…_

He was certainly stronger now. Would he be strong enough to beat her? _What would she think of me now?_

He scoffed as he wiped off his blade. They were finally done. The knights surveyed the battlefield as Bernadetta ran to his side. _What a worthless thought. She’s dead. I’m still competing with and comparing myself to corpses. What’s the use of seeking approval from someone who has been dead for three years?_

“A-are… A-are you okay?” Bernadetta turned to him with concern in her eyes as they mounted their horses.

“Just tired. Let’s go home.”

“Ugh! Finally!” The side of Bernadetta’s mouth twitched up in a way that reminded him of Byleth. 

He looked away.

  
His old man had summoned him to his study as soon as he walked in the door. He had told the knight to tell his old man to shove the summons up his ass. The knight hadn’t appreciated that. 

He took his time in the bath, taking care to scrub every inch of his skin until it was pink. He then ate a heavy dinner, appreciating the fact that it wasn’t the gruel that was served in camp with the knights. Only then did he finally make his way to his father’s study.

“How did it go?” Rodrigue put down the parchment he was looking at and folded his hands under his chin. 

“The Imperial troops are getting desperate. The size of each attack is increasing with the fact that they can also send more troops from the Western territories of Faerghus. We may need to request more aid from Galatea or Gautier if this keeps up.”

His father sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face. Felix took a moment to examine the old man. He looked older now. His face looked weary, the lines around his eyes and mouth were more pronounced. This war was really taking its toll on him. He was still strong, and a worthy opponent in battle. Though he didn’t see many of those, what with the fact that he was constantly trying to make sure the resistance had the supplies and soldiers they needed to keep up their fight against Cornelia and her Imperial connections.

“Unfortunately Count Galatea has many of his own problems. Their territory is barely surviving with the lack of resources that they have. Fhirdiad was providing so much of their aid, and with that gone…” His old man glanced to the ceiling and muttered, “Goddess help us. I don’t know how much longer this can last.”

“I don’t think she can hear you.” Felix rolled his eyes and looked off to the side as his father cast him a sad look. _She couldn’t even save the person she was fused with. What could she possibly do for a Fodlan being torn apart by war?_

“I have something for you.” Felix glanced back and saw his father holding out an envelope to him. “This was included with the Margrave’s report.”

When Felix took it, he immediately noticed Sylvain’s handwriting scrawled across the front of the sealed parchment. He tightened his hand around it and tucked it behind his back. His father looked him over for a moment and said, “Perhaps you and Bernadetta should go and visit? I believe your friends are still staying in Gautier. It might be nice for you to—”

Felix cut him off with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. “Is that all you wished to discuss?” 

His old man nodded, a slight frown pulling his lips. “Yes. That will be all. Thank you for assisting the knights, son.”

Felix grunted in acknowledgement and left the room quickly. He sped to his quarters and went to sit at the desk in the corner of the room. He stared at the parchment in his hands, dragging a finger across Sylvain’s scrawled handwriting. It always amazed him that Sylvain could have such messy handwriting with how neat he usually was.

He ran a hand through his still damp chin length hair, causing his bangs to flop into his face. He tied the top half up in a knot with a frustrated groan. He hadn’t seen Sylvain in so long, and the letters had slowed between them as well. Not that he was keeping track. He definitely wasn’t keeping track. 

_What could he want now?_ He broke the seal and read:

_**Fe,** _

_**I know it has been far too long since my last letter. I’m sorry, I really am. I’m afraid my father has been keeping me busy with more and more responsibilities, all in the name of “training to be the next Margrave, as is your duty”. Blah blah blah… right?** _   
_**It’s my birthday in a few days, and I’d love nothing more than to have you here. Consider it my gift for the year! It could be just like when we were kids! Other than the fact that Ashe, Annette, Linhardt, and hopefully Bernadetta will be there as well.** _   
_**Now I know what you’re thinking… “There’s a war going on, idiot. I don’t have time for your stupid birthday.” But hear me out. There’s a war going on! We’ve got to use any excuse we have to get together, right?** _   
_**Anyway… I miss you, my friend. It has been far too long since I’ve laid eyes on you.** _

_**Your best friend,** _   
_**Sylvain Jose Gautier** _   
_**(You know it’s true. I’ll get you to admit it, one day.)** _

Felix scoffed and rolled his eyes as he careful set the letter down. _Well, he hasn’t changed one bit._ His chest tightened and he turned away from his desk. 

_I don’t know if I can stand being around all of them and having to act like everything is normal. I’m not the person I used to be, and no matter what I’ll probably just screw it up. All I’m fit for is battle, not parties and niceties._

His room was getting darker as he sat there in his desk chair with his depressing thoughts. Eventually he felt so tired he stumbled to his bed and crashed into it with a sigh. Three days of fighting and sleeping on the cold ground certainly made him appreciate the soft warmth of his bed. He curled up in the sheets, and immediately fell asleep.

_He dreamt of darkness, and his chest slowly tightened. ‘No… not this again.’_

_A childish female voice huffed, “Excuse me?! Why are you always so ungrateful?!” A sigh and then, “The lengths I go to…” He whipped around, but couldn’t see anyone. Green light flashed and it was just like all the other times. Byleth floated in front of him, and his heart ripped into pieces._

_Her hair floated around her head like she was suspended in water, and was so bright it seemed to be glowing. Her scars were a shimmering silver against the pale of her skin. In front of her torso, the Crest of Flames glowed golden, like a sigil for a spell. She held the Sword of the Creator in front of her, similar to how those in Faerghus buried those who died in battle. She still wore the same clothes as the last day he had seen her, though her tights were ripped and her armor was severely damaged._

_‘Whose voice was that?’ He glanced around again for the source of the voice, but couldn’t see anyone other than Byleth. He walked toward her, looking over the details of her face that had begun to fade from his memory. ‘Why do I keep having this stupid dream?’ He reached out a trembling hand, and as soon as he got close, the image of Byleth began to fade, just like every other time he’d had this twisted dream._

_‘You’re gone. You’ve been gone for three years. You swore to me that you weren’t going to be reckless…’ A tightness in his throat stopped his next words as his view of Byleth blurred. He angrily wiped at the tears forming in his eyes with the back of his sleeve._

_‘You broke your promise. You’re gone. I should just forget about you.’ A tear trailed down his cheek and he gritted his teeth in frustration. ‘You left us... You left ME! And the worst part is, you died for nothing. The monastery is lost. The war still rages on as Edelgard slowly conquers all of Fodlan. All you did was leave me alone with no one to fight for.’ He turned away, walking into the darkness, rather than staring at the image of his dead friend. ‘I don’t want to dream of this anymore! It’s pointless.’_

_He heard someone sadly sigh, and whipped back to Byleth’s image. Nothing had changed. Her chest still rose and fell with even breaths, her eyes were still closed, her mouth was still upturned like she was having a pleasant dream. She looked beautiful. Just as beautiful as he always remembered her being._

_He turned away from her again, walking further into the darkness. ‘I’m done.’_

He sat up in bed, taking deep breaths as he put his hands over his face. It was still dark outside, meaning it had probably only been a few hours. His heart was racing as he tried to regain his composure. _Why does it still hurt so much? Why am I still thinking about her after three years? Three years! That same damned dream._

He had lost track of how many times he had had it. It seemed to always pop up if he ever thought about Byleth too much during the day, or if he ever seemed to forget a detail about her face. It was like his subconscious was torturing him, wanting to keep him trapped in this cycle of grieving her forever.

 _Fuck this!_ He threw the sheets off of himself and pulled on some training clothes. If he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep, he might as well train until he could empty his mind of these useless thoughts.

He trained for several hours that morning and worked out some of his frustration. When his mind was clearer, he made a decision. He walked to Bernadetta’s room after breakfast and knocked lightly. When she opened the door he asked, “Would you like to go to Gautier with me for a few days? I think I’m going to visit our friends.”

Her grey eyes widened by a fraction as she mumbled something under her breath. Finally, she nodded and said, “I-I wouldn’t just get in the way?”

He shook his head and tried his best to smile, if only a little. “I’m sure Linhardt and Annette would like it if you came. Besides, it’s Sylvain’s birthday.”

She smiled a little bit and nodded. “Yeah. I-I’ll go.”

  
~Sylvain~

He was standing in Emery’s stable, feeding her extra treats and trying to hide from what seemed like endless responsibilities. Emery purred as he scratched her favorite spot under her chin. “Who’s my pretty girl, huh?” She nipped at his clothes and flapped out her wings ever so slightly, preening at the comment. “You know you’re my pretty girl, so good and strong. You always take such good care of me, don’t you? You’re my best girl.” 

He continued to coo sweet nothings to her until a snarky voice behind him said, “Shouldn’t you be saving all of your pretty words for your conquests?” 

“Felix?!” He whipped around, and leaning against the doorway was a slightly smirking swordsman. His hair was longer now, half tied up in a sexy knot with light bangs that fell around his face. His face was more angular, and his tunic showed all the muscle he had developed over the years. _He looks good. Too good._ Sylvain swallowed heavily and leaned against Emery a little more as she nuzzled into his side, unamused by Felix’s presence. 

Amber eyes burned into his, before looking off to the side as they always did when he stared too long. “Bernadetta wanted to come and see Annette and Linhardt. I came along to make sure she got here safely.” Basically, Felix speak for “I got your letter and decided to come see you for your birthday, but I’m not going to tell you that.” He bit back a grin and walked over to pull Felix into a hug, which he immediately got an elbow to the side for, but it was worth it.

“I’m glad you’re here, Fe.” 

“How does it feel to be turning twenty-three?” 

_Well, let’s see. There’s a war going on. All of my friends are in danger. Two of my friends are dead, and I always seem to think about it on days like this. I keep having the same dream about Byleth, which at this point is basically a nightmare. My father is still trying to force me into marriage. I think I might be falling for one of my best friends since childhood who I’m pretty sure has zero interest at all whatsoever… so… twenty-three. Yay._

Sylvain chuckled weakly, suddenly feeling very melancholy, but trying to hide it. “Oh, you know how it is--”

“Stop that.” His eyes glanced at Felix, who was watching him closely as he crossed his arms and scoffed. “You’re being fake again. I didn’t come all this way for you to bullshit me.”

“I thought you came to keep Bernadetta safe?” He smirked as Felix’s cheeks dusted pink.

“Why do you always have to act like a damned fool?” Felix turned on his heel and walked toward the house as Sylvain chuckled and chased after him.

“Wait! Fe! Wait up… come on! You just got here!” He jogged until he was walking beside Felix. “You look good, Fe. I like the hair.”

Felix glanced off to the side. “It’s annoying.” 

“How have you been? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” 

Something flickered across Felix’s face, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. He seemed tired, and maybe a bit more angry than usual. They were three years into a war, though. Who wasn’t tired and angry right now? People died every day. Sometimes you were the one who killed them. The thought made his hands tremor a little, until he managed to push it away.

Felix gritted out, “I’m fine. All I do is fight now.” 

Sylvain tried to tease as he said, “Isn’t that what you always wanted?” 

It was the wrong thing to say. THE. WRONG. THING. He watched as every muscle in Felix’s body tensed, his jaw tightened, and his hands balled into fists. His expression visibly shuttered. Sylvain braced for an angry outburst, or maybe a physical blow, goddess knows he’d had enough of those during their academy days. Instead, Felix just continued walking, completely silent. He looked oddly… sad? No that wasn’t it. Whatever it was, it made Sylvain’s heart drop into his stomach.

“Hey… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

Felix snapped, “Just forget it.” He exhaled deeply through his nose and unclenched his fists before rapidly changing the subject. “How are Annette and Ashe doing?” 

“The lovebirds? They’re good. Precious as ever. I think they were planning on hanging out with Linhardt in the library this morning. Ashe just got back from a border raid yesterday, so he has the next few days to rest before he goes back out again. He and his team brought back a lot of Imperial supplies. It was enough to send to Galatea and still take some for our troops.”

Felix hummed in acknowledgement, but didn’t say anything. _Okay… fighting talk is out._ Felix’s body was still super tense from what he had said. _All he wanted to do was fight in the Academy. Why would that set him off now?_ Felix knew the layout of the house from their childhood, and Sylvain realized he was heading in the direction of the library. When they reached the door, Felix froze for a moment. His thumb circled the pommel of Byleth’s silver sword on his hip. _I wondered if he still carried that._ Sylvain didn’t say anything, not wanting to upset Felix any more than he already had in the first five minutes. After a few moments, Felix pushed open the door. 

“Felix!” Annette practically flew across the room to tackle him in a hug, grinning widely and giggling all the while. “I’m so happy you guys came! It’s been so long!”

Ashe stood and walked over to stand next to Annette, a similar grin on his face. “Hello, Felix! I’m glad to see you’re doing well. We were just catching up with Bernadetta!”

Sylvain glanced over to where Linhardt and Bernadetta were talking. Bernadetta’s hair was longer now, and no longer a frizzy mess like it was in the academy. Her purple hair was straight, and fell just past her shoulders. She wore a purple tunic with a grey riding skirt. She had a soft smile, and didn’t look nearly as frightened as she normally did. Staying in Fraldarius seemed to be doing wonders for her. _Or maybe being with Felix is doing wonders for her._ He shook the thought, and the ugly bit of jealousy, away.

Felix nodded and in a still slightly tense tone said, “It’s good to see you, as well. I’m glad you guys are doing well.”

Sylvain left Felix with Ashe and Annette, and walked over to sit next to Linhardt. “Heya, Bernadetta. Have you been doing any more writing? You know I’d still love to read more.”

“Sylvain!” She covered her face with her hands and whined his name. “You aren’t supposed to talk about that.”

Sylvain chuckled. “Ah, why not! I loved the last manuscript you wrote. You’re really talented.”

Linhardt yawned and laid his head into his folded arms on the table. His voice was muffled by his arms as he said, “You know, Bernadetta is quite the skilled painter as well. I used to read while she painted flowers at the academy. She’s got quite the keen eye.”

“S-stop it! I-I know what this is. You guys are plotting something! A-aren’t you?” Bernadetta slid back in her chair, her cheeks pink from the praise.

Felix called, “She’s getting pretty good with a sword, too.”

“F-Felix!” She stood and turned to the amused looking swordsman. “Stop that!”

Annette giggled and walked over to hug the stammering archer. “Oh Bernie, I didn’t know you were so talented! That’s so amazing!”

“Did I hear you write, Bernadetta? I’d love to read any manuscripts you have. I’ve read most of the novels in the Gautier’s library. I’d love to read something new.”

Bernadetta looked at each of them, her grey eyes wide and her cheeks flushed pink from all of the attention. “They’re just being nice, you know.” Felix walked over and put a hand on Bernadetta shoulder, who immediately relaxed somewhat as he stood beside her. 

“We’re sorry, we’ll stop. We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, Bernie.” Annette softly rubbed her back.

Bernadetta threw her head into her hands and said, “Youguysaretoonicetome. Idon’tdeserveit. StupidBernie. StupidstupidBernie.” She spoke so quickly Sylvain had trouble understanding her. Felix’s eyes looked like he was ready to murder someone until he leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She relaxed somewhat and he put a gentle hand on her arm.

“Sylvain, can you take us to Bernadetta’s room?” 

Sylvain stood and nodded, trying to put on a calming smile as Bernadetta glanced up at him like wary prey. “Yeah! Of course. Come with me.”

Everyone called goodbye and he heard Annette sadly sigh as they walked out the door. As they walked down the hall, he said, “I’m sorry, Bernadetta. We didn’t mean to upset you.”

She pulled at the sleeve of her tunic before latching onto Felix’s arm. “I-It’s fine. I just… don’t…” She shook her head and stared down at the floor with the saddest look on her face. She shook her head again, and when she looked up her cheeks were pink again. “T-Thank you… For being so nice, I mean. W-Will you tell the others I said that?” 

“Not a problem.” He tried to keep giving her a calming smile, and she gave him a little smile back before looking back down at the ground.

She whispered, “H-Happy Birthday, by the way.” 

“Thanks, Bernadetta.”

When they got her situated in her room, Felix closed the door and stomped away. He gritted out, “If I ever meet Count Varley I’m going to…” He clenched his fists and let a heavy breath out of his nose as he ran a hand through his tied hair, pulling some of it from the knot. “You know he used to tie her to a chair? For hours? He said he was going to train her to be the perfect wife.” Felix laughed bitterly and shook his head. “Apparently he killed one of her friends when she was young, just because he was a commoner. Count Varley is everything that’s wrong with nobility. Everything. My parents try to help her but…” He glanced back toward her door and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the ground. “I just wish there was more we could do for her.”

Sylvain sat down and put an arm around his shoulders, and was slightly surprised when Felix didn’t shrug him away. “Wow, Fe. I… I had no idea. I’m sure you guys are helping her a lot. I’m sorry I started it. I was just trying to compliment her. I didn’t know it was going to spiral like that.”

Felix shook his head and then ever so slightly leaned it against Sylvain’s shoulder. “I added to it. I just want her to see how skilled she is. She comes out to train with me sometimes, and she’s gotten really good.” He sighed heavily and Sylvain could feel how some of the tension left his body.

“I like seeing this side of you, Fe.” It came out as a whisper before he could stop it. Felix’s cheeks went pink and he immediately shrugged off Sylvain’s arm and stood up.

“Whatever. I’m just trying to treat her like a human being.”

Sylvain raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. “And there’s nothing… ya know… between you?”

Felix wrinkled his nose and scoffed. “No! Not that she’s not…” Felix stammered for a while, definitely not making him feel any better about all of this. That ugly feeling in the pit of his stomach was back. Felix took a deep breath and added, “She’s like… a younger sister. I just want her to have someone who looks out for her, especially after everything she’s been through.” 

_Oh… OH!_

Sylvain chuckled and slumped against the wall a little. “Are you sure she’s not madly in love with you? I’m pretty sure being cooped up in Fraldarius with the sexy broody swordsman would be enough to make almost anyone fall madly in love.”

Felix’s cheeks flared pink again before he scoffed and turned away. “Sexy broody swordsman? Seriously? You’re such an idiot.”

Sylvain winked and threw a hand over his heart. “An honest idiot.”

Felix turned back to him with a roll of his eyes and held out a hand to help him up. “Whatever.” Sylvain took it and stood. Felix’s hand was so small compared to his, but he could feel how calloused and strong they were. 

They both stood there for a while, neither saying anything or moving away. Finally, Sylvain whispered, “Thanks for coming, Fe. I’ve missed you.”

Amber eyes flicked to his as Felix shrugged. He hummed in the back of his throat, probably meant in acknowledgement of what he said, and dropped his hand back to his side. “What’s the plan? I’m assuming you want to do something that will get us into trouble like you always do?” 

Sylvain laughed and threw an arm around Felix’s shoulder, dragging him back in the direction of the library. “I’m wounded you would think that! I want nothing of the sort. It’ll just be drinks and games in the sitting room. I mostly just wanted to have my friends around.”

Felix scoffed and crossed his arms. “You always have friends around. Ashe, Annette, and Linhardt live here.”

Sylvain sighed dramatically and put his free hand to his heart. He used his most teasing tone as he said, “Fine! I’ll admit it. I wanted you here, and only you! We've been apart for far too long and I needed an excuse to see your handsome face again.”

Felix huffed and pushed him into a wall, almost breaking a very expensive vase that his father would definitely be pissed about. The blush on Felix’s face as he stormed away was worth it, though.

_This has to be the best night I’ve had in three years._ They all sat on the floor in the sitting room, most of them tipsy while the others were completely drunk. Annette leaned heavily against Ashe’s shoulder, giggling like a madwoman at something Bernadetta said. Bernadetta flushed and pulled her knees to her chest, tossing her cards down on the floor with an exasperated huff. Linhardt was passed out on the couch. Not from drinking, just from his general Linhardt-ness. Felix sat beside Sylvain, pink dusted his cheeks and his hair was disheveled from running his hands through it so much.

He had been surprised when the raven-haired swordsman even agreed to drink. He gave an indignant huff when Sylvain passed him over, before pouring one for himself. When asked, Felix growled, “I’m not a teenager anymore.” And that was that. He was handling himself better than when he was eighteen, that was for sure.

Bernadetta was the first to leave, for obvious reasons. She wished him a frantic “happy birthday” before running out. Annette and Ashe trickled out soon after. Ashe’s arm was wrapped around Annette’s waist as they stumbled out together.

“Are they always like that?” Felix’s eyes were narrowed at the door as he gestured wildly with one hand. Sylvain bit back a chuckle. Felix was definitely tipsy.

“What? Annette and Ashe?” Sylvain leaned back against the couch, turning his head to face Felix who was still looking at the door.

Felix’s nose crinkled in something like disbelief or disgust, either way it made Sylvain have to suppress another chuckle. “Are they always so…” 

He trailed off, so Sylvain sing-songed, “In love?”

Felix scoffed and turned his head. “It’s disgusting.”

Sylvain sighed and crossed his arms behind his head. “I don’t know. I think they’re lucky. They get to just… be in love. They don’t have to worry about duty. They don’t have to worry about their parents—”

Felix deadpanned and said, “Ashe’s parents are dead. And Annette's father is a deadbeat.” 

Sylvain held his hands up. “No! I know! I just…” He sighed and ran a hand down his face, dropping it quickly when Felix chuckled. 

“I’m just giving you shit. I get what you mean.” _Felix Hugo Fraldarius… teasing me. Who would’ve thought?_ Felix picked up his glass and took another drink. “My old man and I don’t get along… but I’ll give him one thing. He never harasses me about getting married like yours does. Though I guess it’s different because I have cousins who can carry on the bloodline.” He stared down into his drink as Sylvain frowned.

“My father wanted me to marry By.” Felix’s head shot up, amber eyes alert as he looked over Sylvain. “He only saw her Crest, and I argued against it.” Felix looked at him with something close to disbelief so he added, “That’s the first thing my father said to me when I came back to Gautier after the Battle of Garreg Mach. He handed me a stack of potential wives like I hadn’t just lost my friend and heard another one was set to be executed. I told him that if he continued to pressure me, I would leave and never come back. He hasn’t been as pushy since then, but he still mentions it a lot.”

Felix stared at him for a while, looking over his features carefully like he was trying to piece out a puzzle. Eventually he scoffed and took another drink. “About time you told that asshole where to shove it.”

Sylvain couldn’t help but laugh. It was loud and real, echoing throughout the sitting room as Felix smirked at him. It made the constant weight on his shoulders seem to ease a little. Linhardt stirred on the couch, cracking open an eye to look at them groggily. 

Sylvain chuckled and shook his head. “You shouldn’t sleep here, Lin. Do you need help getting to your room?” 

Linhardt looked between them and slowly sat up. “No. You guys can stay here and… have fun.” He yawned and stretched his arms above his head. Sylvain trailed his eyes over Linhardt as he stretched before looking back down at his drink.

“Goodnight, Lin.” All he got back was a dismissive wave and a groggy grunt. When he looked back at Felix, his expression was one of disgust.

“Linhardt? Really?” Felix scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“What?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

Sylvain swirled the drink in his glass. “Lin and I keep each other company, that’s all.”

Felix’s eyes narrowed as he growled, “Keep each other company? What the hell does that even mean?!”

“It’s not like we love each other or anything… we just have an understanding.” 

Felix scoffed and stood up, staggering slightly due to how much they had had to drink. “An understanding? What understanding? The understanding that you can’t fight off the urge to get into everyone’s pants just for the hell of it?”

Sylvain stood and stepped closer. “Don’t be such an asshole! It’s not my fault your frigid.”

Felix’s face went cherry red as they glared at each other. Sylvain wasn’t sure whether it was embarrassment or anger, either way it made his chest feel tight with guilt. Felix hissed, “Frigid?! That’s what you think I am?! Frigid?!”

Sylvain put his hands up in surrender as shame washed over him. “Look, I shouldn’t have said that. It was too far, and I’m sorry.” 

“You’re just some philandering asshole who’ll never actually love anyone because he’s too busy hiding behind all of his bullshit!”

“Well excuse me if the last person I thought I could love fell off a goddess damned cliff!” Felix’s eyes widened as he took a step back. Sylvain was shouting as his whole body shook. His vision was clouding as stupid tears formed in his eyes. “What else should I do? Shut myself off from everyone, like you do? Make myself miserable and isolated so I can lash out at anyone who tries to get close? I fucking miss her, Felix. I miss her every fucking day. If I have to find ways to distract myself from that, so be it.” He wiped a hand down his face, trying to hide the fact that he was starting to cry. _Goddess… I had too much to drink._

Awkward silence choked the room as they stared at each other. Felix whispered, “If you liked her, why were you always trying to force me to…” Felix’s jaw was tense and he looked off to the side as he trailed off.

“I wanted you to tell her how you felt so you guys to be happy! I know you liked her. I was always going to be thrown into some arranged marriage with someone I would probably hate, but you could have...” Sylvain sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I just wanted you to be happy. That’s all.”

Felix scoffed, but it was one that didn’t carry the bite it normally did. “You and all your self-sacrificing bullshit.” His stance softened slightly and he dropped his hands back to his sides. After a moment of tense silence, he brusquely added, “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

Sylvain couldn’t help but chuckle bitterly. “We’ve known each other a long time, Fe. We’re not going to let your constant verbal abuse get in the way of our friendship, are we?” 

Felix visibly flinched and seemed to cave into himself a bit. “No, I suppose not.”

Sylvain’s voice was soft as he said, “All these years, and not much has changed.”

Felix still looked downcast, not meeting his eyes as he shuffled his feet. “Sometimes I worry I have changed, but not in a good way. She’d probably hate it if she could see me now.”

“No! Don’t say that!” Sylvain closed the distance between them, and when Felix didn’t move away, pulled him into a light hug. To his surprise, Felix hugged him back after a moment. “This is war, Fe. Byleth understood that better than any of us. This was her entire life. I get it now, why she was always saying she wanted more for us.”

Felix rested his head on Sylvain’s chest. “She always told me she wanted me to have other ambitions, but all I ever wanted was to be stronger.” Felix trembled a little bit and Sylvain hugged him tighter. “I was such a fool.”

“We both were. We were just kids.”

Felix sighed and shook his head slightly. “I suppose you’re right.” They stood together for a moment before Felix whispered, “I miss her, too.”

“I know you do, Fe. I know you do.”

~Byleth~

_Nemesis and his army of bandits and dark mages march toward Zanado, her home. All she feels is horror as the first of children is cut down by a sword crafted from her very bones. Her soul is trapped within the Crest stone in the hilt, and as such she feels it all. She feels the agony of her children as they are cut down one by one. The Canyon walls are turned red with blood as the Nabateans are massacred._

_Seiros stands against Nemesis, begging her brothers to flee, as a wounded Indech is carried away by Macuil. Seiros’ fury washes over her in waves, and she feels it in her own soul. A brutal battle takes place between them, and Seiros is able to mortally wound Nemesis. However, before she can deliver the final blow, the dark mages in masks begin to chant and dark magic fills the air._

_“Seiros! You must flee!” She tries to call out to her daughter, but without a physical form her desperate cries are not heard._

_Seiros watches in horror as the bones of her brethren are turned into weapons. Just as they did with her, they drain the bodies of their blood and dismember the limbs to be shaped into all manner of weapons. A magic staff, a lance, an axe, a bow, all are formed as Seiros is taken captive._

_A roar of fury sounds out from above, and her beloved Cichol in his emerald winged glory rains down fire upon their enemies. Seiros takes the opportunity of their confusion to flee, but not before looking back one last time with tears streaming down her face._

_She feels terror, fury, and bitter grief as she watches the last of her children flee from their home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sylvain and Felix are finally talking about the elephant in the room... FEELINGS!!!!!!
> 
> Felix: *Shrieks internally*
> 
> FYI I'm purposely keeping things short with Byleth's Sothis memory dreams. My headcanon is that Sothis doesn't really watch it all, it's more feeling it all because her soul is trapped in the Crest Stone. Cichol was in what would later be called Embarr with his human wife and half Nabatean child, Cethleann, when he heard about the upcoming attack. He didn't get there in time to save his brothers and sisters, but he did get Seiros out of there by transforming. The transformations take a great deal of magic, so it's not easy for them to go back and forth, that's why Seiros wasn't in her Immaculate One form.
> 
> This is really dark stuff. I didn't want to be too gruesome. Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

~Sylvain~ 

Some of their spies in the capitol had warned them of a large attack set to happen at the border of Fraldarius. People still loyal to the Kingdom, or those who opposed Cornelia's oppressive reign, had been rallying to Fraldarius territory to help sustain it, but it was reported that this would be the biggest attack since the start of the war. Edelgard must be getting tired of Cornelia’s failure to subdue us. He scoffed bitterly at the thought, even as fear and anxiety began to rush through him. 

Fraldarius territory borders along the old Blaiddyd territory, as such they have taken the brunt of the attacks Cornelia has sent. Cornelia and Edelgard know that if Fraldarius crumbles, the rest of the houses will have no choice but to swear fealty, including House Gautier. It’s become an endless worry over Felix’s well-being, especially since their communications are so few in between sightings of one another. Travel is too dangerous, and they have both been busy trying to defend and sustain their territories.

He had begged his father to allow him, Ashe, Annette, and Linhardt to go down to Fraldarius to prepare for the enemy attack. His father had allowed it, knowing just as he did that all was lost if Fraldarius was crushed. Ingrid had written to say she would be flying up with her pegasus as well, with what little troops they could spare from Galatea. It would be the biggest group of them to get together since the fall of the monastery. If it weren’t for the circumstances, he might be happy to see everyone.

This war was becoming… exhausting. He was tired, so very tired. Tired of the death, destruction, and endless fighting. He was tired of feeling so worried for his friends, citizens, and the people under his command. It never became easier to write to the families of his battalion members when someone died, it never became easier to cut people down. He hated this war. It had taken too much from him and the people he cares about.

Linhardt was asleep against his back as they flew in the direction of Fraldarius. Ashe and Annette rode below them with knights from Gautier and Sylvain’s battalion. He had begged Linhardt to come, just to stay in the medical tents, not to battle. He felt bad, knowing how much the sleepy mage hated the sight of blood. However, he was so talented with faith magic, he would be too valuable of an asset to leave in Gautier. At the very least, he wouldn’t be asked to kill. That was the only reason he agreed to come. 

As soon as they landed, he immediately spotted Ingrid’s pegasus near the command tent. _Felix._ His blood seemed to hum in his veins as his pre-battle adrenaline started to kick in. Or maybe it was the thought of seeing his grouchy swordsman. His grouchy swordsman friend… not his… or anything. He shook his head and rolled his eyes, gaining a curious side glance from Linhardt. He winked, and Linhardt rolled his eyes.

Linhardt muttered, “Have fun with your angsty swordsman.” Sylvain tripped over his own feet and rapidly straightened with a clearing of his throat. Linhardt yawned and continued walking beside him. “All of that attitude seems like way too much of a hassle, but to each their own, I suppose.” 

Sylvain chuckled and crossed his arms behind his head. “He’s not my—”

He was cut off by the swordsman in question as he stomped out of the command tent, almost barreling into him before quickly stopping himself. _Sweet and merciful Saint Seiros he’s wearing thigh highs…_

His mouth was really dry. After clearing his throat, he asked, “Fe? Everything okay?”

Felix scoffed and waved a hand toward the command tent. “Those two are being ridiculous! I can’t be in the same tent with them if they continue to bring up this utter nonsense. I won’t waste my time!”

Linhardt rolled his eyes and mouthed, “Attitude” before walking toward Bernadetta near a tent further down.

He hazarded a guess, but there was almost no way he was wrong. “Ingrid and Lord Rodrigue? Are they talking about His Highness again?”

Felix groaned and ran a hand through his ponytail, causing some of it to fall loose. _I wonder what it looks like down. How long has it gotten?_ His eyes trailed down angular cheekbones, and a slender pale neck, and… “Idiot! Are you even listening to me?” Furious amber eyes that almost seemed to glow red were glaring at him as he realized he had totally missed whatever Felix had said.

“Ummm…” suddenly very nervous, he crossed his arms behind his head again. “Sorry. What were you saying?” Felix growled in frustration and turned on his heel to stomp away from him. Sylvain jogged forward to catch up. “I’m sorry! I’ve been flying all day, I guess I’m just tired.”

Felix rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Whatever.”

Sylvain glanced around at the knights that were preparing for battle. He saw Gautier, Galatea, and Fraldarius symbols and colors mixed throughout. “Have the scouts seen anything yet?”

“The Imperial forces should be here by morning, or possibly sooner.” Felix answered. “My old man is going out of his mind.” After a brief pause, he added, “Thanks… you know… for coming.”

Sylvain nodded and scratched the back of his neck. In a teasing tone he said, “House Gautier knows they don’t stand a chance if you fall here. It’s all self-preservation, really.” Felix scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Feeling bold, or possibly having a death wish, Sylvain dropped his arm over Felix shoulders and added, “And I can’t risk you dying without me, now can I?” 

Felix came to an abrupt stop and turned to glare at him. “You are a complete FOOL, you know that?” Felix stomped away as Sylvain mentally smacked his forehead. _Idiot. Would you pull yourself together?_ He rushed after Felix, following him all the way to his tent. 

When he ducked inside Felix wouldn’t turn to face him. His back was tense, and his arms were still crossed. Something about his stance reminded Sylvain of a wounded animal, ready to strike anything that came too close. But that was Felix, wasn’t it? Keeping everything and everyone at arm’s length to try and keep it from hurting him. Not that that had worked for him, not after everything he had lost. The thought made Sylvain's chest ache.

He blurted out, “Do you ever want to just run away?”

Felix turned to him slowly, with furrowed eyebrows. “What… you’re thinking about abandoning Faerghus?”

“No! I wouldn’t…” Sylvain groaned in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. “Sometimes I just wish we could run away. I wish we could go and find some cabin in the woods, far away from this goddess damned war and our duties and just… be. You know?” As soon as it left his mouth, he realized how it sounded and his palms began to sweat.

Felix stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment, before turning away with a scoff. “Don’t be such a coward.”

 _Okay… ouch._ “I’m tired, Fe. I’m tired of all of this. I’m tired of this war, I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of being worried about you—”

“Then don’t be worried about me.” Felix’s tone was so abnormally dejected that Sylvain had the sudden urge to either punch him or grab him and… _nope. Not going there._ Felix’s eyes were still narrowed, but his voice lacked his usual venom as he said, “I’m not the one who slacks off all the time. You should really be worrying about yourself.”

“Fe… I—” Horns sounded, cutting him off. 

Felix’s eyes narrowed as his hand went to his sword. He growled, “How the hell did they get here so fast? Where are the fucking scouts?”

Sylvain turned and ran out of the tent. Sure enough, out on the other end of the vast field before him, he spotted Imperial colors and the Dukedom banner. Without another word he ran toward Emery, shouting for his battalion. He spotted Felix running toward the command tent out of the corner of his eye as he swung up onto Emery.

“Be careful out there. I really don’t want to have to patch you up.” Linhardt’s face was pale as he rushed past him in the direction of the medical tent at the back of camp. Sylvain winked at him as he passed and took to the skies. Emery roared as she took off, the adrenaline was obviously affecting them both. He flew higher, trying to catch a glimpse of anything useful, and his heart sank. 

A line of demonic beasts were surrounded by mages in those weird bird beak-type masks, similar to back in the academy days and the Battle of Garreg Mach. He hadn’t seen many of them since then, mostly Cornelia just sent the normal rabble. A chill went down his spine as he called the information down to Rodrigue. Ingrid’s mouth set into a thin line and Felix’s facial expressions were shuttered, the tell that he was actually nervous.

Without warning, the battalion of mages sent volleys of fire spells out into the field, causing fire to consume everything between them. Yells sounded out from the soldiers below him, and Sylvain readied the Lance of Ruin. It was going to be a long fight. 

A few moments later, Ingrid flew up on his right. It had been so long since they had fought side by side, but as the battle started, they almost instantly fell back to their usual rhythm. They flew forward, working in tandem to take out the archers and mages, as the foot soldiers and cavalry clashed with the front lines. His battalion fought to keep up with him, and at his signal, Ingrid pulled back with him so they wouldn't get too far into enemy lines.

Bloodcurdling roars filled the air as the demonic beasts were released into the fray. Soldiers from both sides were getting crushed as the monsters stampeded through the ranks. He and Ingrid provided support from the air, finding a pattern where they each flew in passes to strike with their Relics. 

They were pushing the Imperial forces back. Things were going so well, until the suddenly weren’t.

The line of bird mask mages that had been surrounding the demonic beasts let off another volley of fire spells, raining it down on the foot soldiers below him. Sylvain’s heart rate sped up as he scanned the ground, desperately searching for raven hair through the mass of fighting soldiers. He flew through the smoke, taking out the last of the demonic beasts, before he finally spotted Felix rushing toward the mages in the masks. _Why isn’t anyone with him? Why is he going alone?!_ He was only focusing on trying to give him support, and trying to keep him safe. Ingrid called his name, but he wasn’t paying attention.

That was his mistake.

Emery pulled up sharply, almost throwing him from the saddle. She let out an agonized roar of pain as fire struck her wings and chest. Sylvain cried out as the fire spread up his legs, burning through his armor. Emery couldn’t keep altitude anymore, she tried to keep them steady, but her screeches of pain rattled through his bones. 

They were approaching the ground too fast. With the damage to her wings, Emery couldn’t keep them from crashing. He knew if he stayed on her back, the possibilities of being crushed were high. As they got closer to the ground, he bailed off the saddle, tears forming in his eyes at the thought of Emery’s pain.

He heard a crack as he hit the ground, hard, and rolled to a stop. All of the air left his lungs as he stared up at the smoke-filled sky. _I’m sorry Fe…_

All he heard was Emery’s furious roars before his consciousness faded.

~Felix~

The battle was hell. Fire was everywhere as soldiers screamed. The demonic beasts were tearing through their troops. Some of the newer troops had never fought against these things. He distantly heard Ashe calling out commands to the surrounding troops as Annette and the mages shot off spells from a distance. His father and his guard were trying to help the wounded, as well as using their faith magic against the beasts. Sylvain and Ingrid were tearing through the skies with their glowing Relics.

Another volley of fire spells rained down from the skies, and Felix cursed as the soldier beside him began to burn with an agonized scream. _I have to take out those mages._ He charged forward, cutting through anyone who stood in his path, but stopped when he heard an agony filled roar from the sky just behind him. He risked turning around as he heard Ingrid scream, “SYLVAIN!”

His heart stopped as he watched the familiar red shock of hair fall from the sky. Sylvain’s wyvern’s wings were burning as she tried to keep them steady, but it wasn’t going to be enough. They were falling too fast, and they were falling right toward the enemy lines. 

His feet were moving before he could form a conscious thought. His sword arm acted on its own accord as he cut down enemy after enemy, desperately running to try and get to Sylvain. When he finally got there, Sylvain’s battalion was already, there desperately fighting off the enemy. Some of them were trying to get to Sylvain, who was lying unconscious on the ground, but Sylvain’s wyvern was snapping at anyone who tried to get close to him in her injured and confused rage.

An Imperial soldier charged her with a sword, and she bit into his arm, throwing him off to the side as he screamed. She lifted her head and roared in fury, blood dripping from her jaws as she swiped another soldier with her talons. The soldiers armor crumbled and he dropped to the ground. 

As Felix ran toward Sylvain, she spotted him. Yellow eyes met amber, and she let out a pained whine. He had never trusted animals, feeling they were too unpredictable, but in that moment his heart broke for her. She was fighting desperately for her rider, and he had never been more grateful to an animal in his life. 

He slid to Sylvain’s side, and Emery let out another roar, lifting her burnt wings and threatening anyone who came close. Sylvain’s breathing was ragged, one leg was definitely broken and the armor over his legs was still hot to the touch. Felix looked around frantically, desperately trying to think of what to do. He had never hated the fact that he didn't ride a horse into battle more than he did in this moment.

“Here! Take my horse! We’ve gotta get the boss out of here!” A member of Sylvain’s battalion jumped out of his saddle and approached cautiously. Emery gave a warning growl, but seeing that he was trying to help, she turned back to swipe at another enemy soldier. 

He heard wing beats above them and glanced up to see Ingrid, trying to provide them any sort of cover as he and the battalion member he didn’t know lifted Sylvain onto the horse. Felix climbed up behind Sylvain, trying to hold him upright as he flicked the reins. The sound of arrows flying through the air sounded out before another roar of pain. Felix glanced over his shoulder in time to see Sylvain’s wyvern pounce onto a group of archers trying to aim at them. A soldier with an axe rushed toward her and the next roar died as she did.

Felix turned away with a whispered, “Thank you.”

They rode through the battlefield as Felix’s heart continued to race. _If I can just get him to the medical tents…_ Mages were desperately trying to keep the melee fighters going. He could try to find his father, but who knew how long that would take. And he needed to get Sylvain out of immediate danger. 

When they finally reached camp, mages rushed toward him the closer they got to the medical tent. He spotted a familiar head of green hair and called out to Linhardt. The lazy mage turned toward them and his blue eyes went impossibly wide. Some of the mages helped pull Sylvain off the horse. His face was pale and clammy, and his lips had a tinge of blue. Felix followed them in. When one of the mages tried to stop him, Linhardt called out that he could stay.

He stood off to the side, pacing frantically as they laid Sylvain out and pulled him out of his armor. Linhardt made a choked noise as they pulled off his greaves and revealed the burnt flesh of Sylvain’s legs. Murmured prayers filled the tent as the mages started healing him. Felix couldn’t hold it back any longer. He yelled, “Is he going to be okay?!”

Linhardt glanced up at him before getting back to his work. In a worry filled voice he said, “He has a concussion and his body has gone into shock from the burns and the fall. The burns are second degree, but there’s a high risk of infection if we don’t hurry. Now let us work!” 

Part of his brain was screaming at him to go back out and finish the fight, but every other part of him needed to stay by Sylvain’s side. He heard wing beats and ran out of the tent to find Ingrid landing nearby. She was out of breath as she ran up to him and said, “The Imperials have called a retreat! How is he?” 

Felix realized his hands were shaking, and he clenched them to fists at his sides. His voice shook as he said, “He has a concussion and his legs are badly burnt. He’s in shock. They’re working on him right now.”

Ingrid pulled him into a crushing hug. “Goddess… I don’t know what happened. Everything was fine, but then he wasn’t paying attention when that last volley came toward us and…” Her voice cracked and she squeezed him harder. “Emery fought them off as long as she could. I’ve never seen a wyvern fight like that before.” She buried her face in Felix’s shoulder and he raised his arms to squeeze her back.

His throat tightened and he shut his eyes tightly as he whispered, “I didn’t respect her enough.”

She chuckled wetly and shook her head. “Sylvain will never find a girl who will love him as much as Emery did.” He chuckled slightly and Ingrid squeezed him again before she let him go. She looked him over before laying a hand on his arm. “I’ll deal with your father and Sylvain’s battalion. You stay here with him, alright?”

He nodded slowly with his eyes trained on the ground. His thumb moved anxiously over the worn pommel of his silver sword. “Thank you.” Ingrid squeezed his arm one last time before turning and walking away. 

The image of Sylvain falling from the sky seemed to play on repeat any time he closed his eyes. He gritted his teeth and walked back into the medical tent. Sylvain’s legs were wrapped and they were covering his bare midsection with a sheet. He and Linhardt locked eyes, and the sleepy mage walked over to him.

“We have him stabilized. We’re keeping him asleep until we can stop the swelling in his legs and insure there's no infection. He’ll be here for a while.” He paused for a moment before hesitantly saying, “Emery?”

Felix shook his head slowly and Linhardt sighed sadly. “She fought of enemy troops until I could get to him. She died protecting him.”

Linhardt turned toward Sylvain on the bed and whispered, “He’s going to be heartbroken when he finds out.” The mage sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his hair. “I assume you’ll be staying with him?”

Felix spat, “What? You aren't? Aren't you two... keeping each other company?” 

Linhardt chuckled softly and shook his head. "Believe me when I say he would prefer it if you were here."

  
More shouts sounded out from outside the tent and Linhardt heaved a heavy sigh. “More work. If you’ll excuse me.” The mage turned and walked out of the tent.

Felix turned back to Sylvain and slowly walked over to kneel beside the cot. He whispered so no one could hear him but Sylvain. “You have to be okay, you fool. You can’t…” tears blurred his vision and he clenched his eyes shut. “You made a promise. You can’t leave without me.”

 _“Sometimes I just wish we could run away. I wish we could go and find some cabin in the woods, far away from this goddess damned war and our duties and just… be. You know?”_ Looking at Sylvain’s still form on the bed and remembering the question he had asked only a few hours ago racked him with guilt. “I don’t think you’re a coward. I’m a coward.” He put a hesitant hand on Sylvain’s arm and placed his head on the cot. 

_Why am I such an asshole?! He was saying he wanted to run away, and he kept saying we and… Damn it! My last words to him can’t be about not being a coward. This isn’t how this ends. He’s going to be fine._ He wasn’t sure whether he believed that.

It was one of the longest nights of Felix’s life. Mages came and went, unwrapping the burns and healing them over and over. They managed to get the swelling down, and some of the redness was fading. He would have some nasty scars, but he was alive and that’s all Felix really cared about.

Sylvain slept through it all, and Felix never left his side. Rodrigue came in to check on them, and after hearing Felix’s refusals to leave, sighed and left. Ingrid brought in the Lance of Ruin, salvaged from the battlefield by a member of Sylvain’s battalion, and placed it under the cot. Ingrid sat with him a while, holding Sylvain’s hand. Eventually she had to leave to get her remaining soldiers back to Galatea.

It was a resounding rebellion victory, but they took heavy losses. His father had to leave the next day to take care of things in Fraldarius, but told him he should ride in the wagon up to Gautier with Sylvain. Not that Felix would have listened if he had ordered him to return to Fraldarius, anyway. Bernadetta came to give him a tearful hug goodbye, before leaving with his father.

They loaded a still sleeping Sylvain onto a wagon and set off for Gautier with his battalion surrounding the convoy. He and Linhardt sat in the back, while Ashe and Annette rode along right behind them. The journey was slow and tiresome, but after a full day of travel they finally arrived in Gautier. Unsurprisingly, Lord Gautier didn’t even come to check on Sylvain after they sent word of his injuries. Felix was too worried about Sylvain to be adequately pissed about it. 

Once they got Sylvain safely to his room, Felix had Linhardt watch over Sylvain so he could finally clean up. He hadn’t bathed since the battle, and the feeling of grime was getting to be too much for him. Linhardt just rolled his eyes and waved him away, totally entrenched in some tome he was reading anyway. Felix scrubbed off quickly and rushed back. When he opened the door, he saw that Sylvain was finally waking up. Linhardt was standing over him, trying to ask him questions, which he only got drowsy grunts as answers to. Felix expected to feel relief, but all he felt was rage.

Sylvain’s head swiveled to him as he walked into the room, and a soft smile curved his lips. “Fe! I’m glad you’re safe.”

“You irresponsible fool! You’re so weak… yet you always… always…” Felix stomped forward with his fists clenched. Sylvain’s eyes widened slightly and he started to sit up against the pillows.

Linhardt yawned, literally yawned, as he was starting to fly into a rage because his not best friend is a total idiot who almost got himself killed. “Yeah… I’m going to leave. I can tell I won’t be able to concentrate with you two bickering. Send for me when Sylvain needs another round of healing.” Linhardt waved over his shoulder as he strolled out the door, and Felix glared at him the whole way out.

“Fe? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?! What’s wrong?! I had to watch you fall out of the fucking sky! That’s what’s wrong!”

Sylvain’s eyes widened further, almost like he was finally remembering what happened. He pushed himself to sitting, before wincing and putting a hand to his head. Tears formed in his eyes as he whispered, “Emery? Is Emery okay? Did she make it? Please tell me she’s okay.” His eyes were pleading as his lip quivered.

Felix’s rage left him as quickly as it had come. He sighed heavily and swallowed through a lump forming in his throat. He sat at the edge of the bed and as softly as he could, he said, “She died protecting you. I had never seen anything like it. She was…” he trailed off and looked down at his hands “… she was a good mount. She must have really loved you.” 

The tears in the corners of Sylvain’s eyes were now spilling down his cheeks as he let out a choked sob and let his head fall back to rest against the headboard. He whispered Emery’s name over and over while Felix sat there, trying to figure out what to say. Sylvain whispered, “She’s all I had left of her.” Before he shut his eyes and let out another choked sob.

“Of Byleth.” His chest tightened as the words left his mouth. It had to be the first time he had said her name since Seteth told them she was gone. It ached still, but not as badly as it used to. The thought made him feel strangely sad.

Sylvain slowly raised his head and nodded. “I’ve lost both of them, and it’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault that she’s gone. And mounts—”

“It is my fault.” Sylvain bowed his head, and clenched his fists at his side.

“Don’t be a fool.”

“It is!” Sylvain’s caramel colored eyes burned with intensity as he raised his face to look at Felix. “I had her, she was there in my arms! I should have dragged her away. I should have dragged her kicking and screaming if I had to. It’s what you would have done, and you know it! Instead I just flew away. I just left her there to die!”

Felix stared at him for a moment, not sure how to respond to his outburst. Sylvain’s facial expression shuttered and he seemed to physically curl into himself. “I never wanted to say it. I figured you would hate me and—”

“You really are a fool. The biggest in all of Fodlan.” Sylvain’s head turned sharply and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’ve been holding onto that for four years? She’s gone and I fucking hate that...” He clenched his fists and pushed back the grief that clawed at his chest. “But I don’t hate you, and I don’t think I could. You’re all I have.”

Sylvain still stared at him with a stupid confused expression on his face so he added, “That’s why you have to stop pulling this shit. You ALWAYS put yourself in danger and I’m sick of it. I can’t always be there to drag you out of whatever mess you’ve made.”

After a moment, Sylvain plastered a sickening fake grin on his face and ran a hand through his hair. “I understand. I won’t let you lose another friend, Fe.”

Frustration welled up inside him and he growled, “You understand NOTHING. We made a promise, right here, all those years ago. Do you remember that?!”

“Of course, I remember that Fe. How could I forget?”

“Do you know what it’s like to have to watch you fall from the sky? Do you know what it’s like to have to sit there and watch them heal you over and over and over? We made a promise!” There was a hint of desperation in his voice that he quickly tried to rein in.

Sylvain’s face softened and he reached out to take Felix’s hand. “I’m right here, Fe. I’m not going to leave.”

“You don’t fucking know that! I made that promise because you are important to me, you always have been. I don’t want to lose you... I can’t!”

A tension-filled silence settled over them and a weird look crossed Sylvain’s face as they stared at one another. Felix was starting to feel anxious. _That was way too much, I didn't meant to say any of that. Maybe I just need sleep. I don’t even know what I’m saying. I need to get out of here._

He stood slowly and said, “I’m going to—”

There was a hard jerk on his hand, and he fell forward, trying hard not to land on Sylvain and hurt him further. However, he couldn’t worry about that for long, because all thoughts promptly left his mind as Sylvain’s lips slotted against his. Sylvain’s lips were as soft as the kiss as Sylvain’s fingers threaded into his damp ponytail. Warmth immediately flooded his cheeks as his brain shut down.

Sylvain pulled back and Felix blinked a couple times to try and clear the haze of his mind. The blinking really didn’t help. Sylvain was looking at him, anxiety written over his features as brown eyes carefully studied his face. Felix was still not thinking as he pulled him closer, and Sylvain’s lips crashed back into his. It was all neediness and hunger and desperation as Felix scrambled on the bed to get closer, as close as he could without touching Sylvain’s legs.

Sylvain moved his hand back until he untied Felix’s hair. He ran his fingers through it as it cascaded down to his shoulders. Sylvain moaned softly, _fucking moaned_ , and Felix immediately had to pull back. He was panting as he scrambled back to the edge of the bed. Sylvain tried to follow, but hissed at the pain in his legs, or maybe his head. Realistically, it was probably both. 

He snapped, “What the hell are you doing?!” When Sylvain’s face paled, Felix quickly added, “You’re injured, idiot.” His voice was raspy and lower than he had ever heard it. He heartbeat was thundering way too hard in his chest.

Sylvain let out a heavy exhale and leaned back against the headboard. Once the relief wore off, he let out an exasperated chuckle. He whined, “Fe… We should talk—”

“Nope. Not right now. We are... we are not talking about anything.” Felix shook his head and stood up quickly. He couldn’t talk about this, or even think about what just happened right now. His brain just… couldn’t do it. Nope. 

_Is Sylvain fucking pouting?_

He was. He was definitely fucking pouting. Felix scoffed and crossed his arms. “You’re insatiable.” Sylvain chuckled weakly and shook his head. “I’m going to go tell people you’re awake. Are you in pain? Should I get Linhardt?”

“No, I’m fine.” Insecurity crept back into Sylvain’s features and he too softly asked, “You’ll come back, right?”

“Of course, I’ll come back. Don’t be an idiot.” Sylvain nodded hesitantly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

He turned and reached for the handle of the door. “Hey Fe?” He glanced over his shoulder at Sylvain, who said, “I’m really not trying to get myself killed before you. You know that right? As long as you’ll have me, I’ll always be on your side.”

Felix opened the door and answered, “I know… I know…” 

He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. He didn’t know what this meant. He didn’t know what was supposed to happen now. He didn’t know how he felt. All he knew was that they were in the middle of a war that didn’t seem to have an end in sight.

But for this moment, and this moment alone, he was just going to be happy his friend was alive. That would be enough for now.

~Byleth~

_Rain falls on the battlefield as thousands of soldiers charge forward. Foot soldiers run through the mud, and pegasus knights try to fly through the heavy rain in the direction of the enemy. Red light falls from the sky, and fire blasts through the surrounding soldiers as they cry out in agony._

_‘I’ve had this dream before…’ Her mind feels so hazy. ‘Why am I having this dream again?’_

_A warrior seems to fall from the sky, landing with a grunt, before straightening to sneer at the surrounding soldiers. He pulls the Sword of the Creator from the ground with a low grunt, swinging it immediately at an incoming soldier._

_‘Nemesis.’ It all feels so familiar, and she can’t figure out why._

_A woman with long green hair stands on the other end of the battlefield, watching in perfect stillness as Nemesis and his Elites fight with their Relics. She thinks she can hear a chorus of agony-filled screams coming from the Relics. A soldier falls trying to protect the woman. In his last moments he calls for her, “Lady Seiros!”_

_‘Rhea… Rhea is Seiros!’_

_Anger, grief, and pain stir within her for a reason that she can’t explain as she watches and waits._

_Both armies still as Seiros and Nemesis lock eyes across the battlefield. Nemesis lets out a powerful cry, and the Sword of the Creator tears through the ground itself, sending earth and rubble flying out to crush his enemies. The Sword acts by the will of its master, even as it screams in horror-filled agony._

_Seiros draws her sword, readying herself for the battle before her. She charges forward with rage and determination etched on her face. Their swords clash with devastating blows, they duck and weave around each other as each of them tries to get the upper hand._

_Seiros is pushed back by a mighty swing, but she immediately throws herself back into the fray. Their blades lock, and piercing yellow eyes meet fury-filled green. Nemesis beats Seiros back again, and the Sword of the Creator forms a whip that lashes out toward her. The sound of the pieces grating together fills the air as Nemesis whips it toward Seiros again and again._

_Seiros parries with her blade, and when the whip snags on her sword, she pulls the Sword of the Creator from Nemesis’ filthy hands. She sprints forward and strikes Nemesis with her fist, before leaping into the air and kicking him down into the mud. Seiros draws a dagger as she pins him to the bloody ground. “Tell me, Nemesis. Do you recall the Red Canyon?” Nemesis’ eyes widen and she screams, “You’ll die for that!” as the dagger plunges into his chest. Her yells of, “Die! Die! Die!” fill the air as she stabs the evil one over and over, even after he is dead._

_Her voice quivers with rage and sorrow as she cries, “You took… everything that I loved.”_

_The battlefield is silent as the armies on both sides watch the death of Nemesis. Soon the Knights of Seiros cry out in victory. Seiros crawls across the muddy ground toward the Sword of the Creator. She cradles the blood-soaked blade, like you would a child, and raises it to her cheek. She nuzzles it softly and whispers, “He’s gone now, Mother.”_

_Pain overwhelms her and the image fades. She thinks she hears someone sobbing._   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felix's brain has not recovered. Also... it won't recover any time soon. Sorry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! 
> 
> I am so so so so sorry about not having any updates the last couple days. I've been in such a weird headspace lately and writing this chapter was borderline impossible. I wasn't pleased with how things ended with Felix and Sylvain last chapter, so I wanted to add this one. There will be one more official "time-skip" chapter before the gang gets back together.
> 
> Also... not so fun fact. Concussions can cause and/or worsen the symptoms of depression and anxiety. It's been a minute since I wrote a real Sylvain spiral. I hope you guys hate/love this one as much as I do.

~Sylvain~

Felix left the next morning without so much as a goodbye. Linhardt came in to give him a round of healing and informed him that the swordsman had left before dawn. The stable hands were the only ones to see him because he had borrowed one of House Gautier’s horses.

So basically, Felix was so eager to flee that he was willing to travel alone on war torn roads on a borrowed horse. Sylvain gaped at Linhardt for a while before the numbness set in and he stared up at the ceiling, not making eye contact for the rest of their little healing session. Linhardt either didn’t care, or was nice enough not to mention it.

For three weeks Sylvain was stuck in bed spiraling about it. He knew it was a mistake… now. He was concussed, had just lost Emery, survived a near death experience, and had just heard his childhood friend that he was developing hardcore feelings for tell him how important he was to him. Given, it was in a very Felix-esque way, but could Sylvain really be blamed for getting caught up in the moment?

He obviously could. Felix had felt the need to flee the territory rather than spend another moment in the house with his childhood friend who had kissed him.

But Felix KISSED HIM BACK! That meant something, right? Unless it was just some pity reaction. But… Felix wasn’t the type to care about something like that, right? Felix would have just punched him in the face, or some other suitable violent reaction, if he hated it, right? 

But then, why would he leave? Why wouldn’t he at least say goodbye? All of the questions inevitably led to him sulking for the next three weeks. 

_Of course, he wouldn’t want you… You’ve fucked things up way too many times to deserve something real with anyone, let alone Felix. What could you possibly offer him anyway?_

The negative thoughts were like a dark cloud, slowly suffocating him. Everything felt empty and numb, and he felt utterly alone. Annette and Ashe visited as often as they could, but he couldn’t even find the energy to fake being okay. They were pitying him, and he knew it. They kept asking what was wrong, and each time he gave them excuses. “I just miss Emery.” “I’m just tired.” “My head hurts.” They took each one with patience, not prying too much, and he really did appreciate them. He didn’t deserve to have such good friends, he really didn’t.

He was tucked under the blankets, drifting somewhere between sleep and waking as he usually did these days, when someone knocked on his door. Linhardt didn’t wait for him to say anything, he hardly ever did by this point. The sleepy mage walked to the side of the bed and looked him over carefully. 

“How is your pain today?” Linhardt tugged at the blankets until Sylvain let go. His hands started to glow with faith magic as he slowly ran them over the scarred skin of Sylvain’s legs. When he didn’t respond, Linhardt pursed his lips and climbed onto the bed to move his hands up to Sylvain’s temples.

“How are you feeling?” Big blue eyes met his as Linhardt hovered over him. Some of the numbness seemed to ease as the pain in his head dulled.

“Nothing you can’t make better, gorgeous.” He threw in a lazy wink, but it sounded half-assed, if Linhardt’s eye roll was any indication. 

Linhardt hummed in the back of his throat and looked into Sylvain’s eyes in a way that made him slightly uneasy. It was like Linhardt was examining him, but not in a way the mage ever had before. “Your leg has healed, and there’s only light scarring from your burns. I’m clearing you to start with some light physical activity. I suggest a light walk to start with, whatever gets you out of this bed.”

“What if I don’t want to get out of bed?” He pulled Linhardt’s shirt, tugging him down for a kiss. Linhardt pulled back after a moment and looked into his eyes again.

In an even tone, Linhardt said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

The bitterness slipped into his voice as he spat out, “And why not?” 

Linhardt sat up straight and ran a hand over the front of his shirt to smooth it down. “This agreement of ours is no longer mutually beneficial, and it hasn’t been for a long time. I think we should stop.”

“What?” It came out weak and soft as Sylvain’s chest tightened. A weird sense of desperation clawed at his throat. “What do you mean?” He sat up slowly and leaned forward to trail soft kisses along Linhardt’s neck, just like he liked it. Linhardt sighed softly and leaned to grant him better access. 

He whispered close to Linhardt’s ear, “I’m not good enough for you anymore? I don’t make you feel satisfied?” He meant for it to be teasing, but it reeked of vulnerability. If he was in a better state of mind, he’d probably hate himself right now. Hell, he still hated himself right now. Linhardt shivered and he took that as a sign to nibble softly on his earlobe, just like he liked it.

“That’s… not…” Linhardt’s thought was cut off as Sylvain reached out to palm him with just enough pressure to make him groan and buck slightly into his hand. Sylvain moved his free hand to cup Linhardt’s cheek and kissed him like he meant it. Kissed him like his mind wasn’t what felt like a million miles away in Fraldarius. Kissed him like Linhardt was the one that he wanted right now.

When their lips parted enough to breathe, Linhardt sighed heavily and brought his hands up to Sylvain’s chest. He pushed him back with a shake of his head before moving to standing. “No, Sylvain. I meant what I said. We said we would end this when it was no longer in both of our best interests. It’s not anymore.”

“What? I’m not even good enough to make the guy I casually fuck want me? Is that how it is?” Ice crept into his tone as Linhardt’s lips pursed.

“Did something happen with Felix?” Linhardt crossed his arms and stared down at him in a way that made his skin crawl. 

He opened and shut his mouth a few times before he finally managed to say, “What the hell are you talking about?” 

Linhardt hummed and brought a hand to his chin. He obviously didn’t buy into Sylvain’s denial, because he said, “I figured. Why are you wasting time with me when it’s obvious you want to be with him?” Linhardt’s tone was so nonchalant, like he was discussing the weather instead of stabbing Sylvain through the chest with a fucking lance.

Sylvain practically screamed, “Because he doesn’t want me!” His voice cracked on the last word as his throat tightened. Linhardt’s gaze was steady as Sylvain moved to sitting up. He shifted his legs off the bed and pressed his feet to the floor.

Linhardt had the audacity to shrug. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Linhardt deadpanned and said, “You can read minds now? Intriguing. Tell me more.” 

Anger flared in his chest and he clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “Now you’re pissing me off. You should probably think about who’s giving you a place to live before you talk to me like that.” 

Linhardt raised an eyebrow and dropped his arms to his sides. “How very “Margrave Gautier” of you. So, you’ll allow me to live here if I let you fuck me and agree to listen to everything you say without back talk? Is that how this works?” His voice stayed even, and Linhardt was as easygoing as usual.

However, Sylvain’s blood ran cold. He croaked out, “What?”

Linhardt sarcastically stated, “That’s what you just said, isn’t it? Being an heir has its perks, doesn’t it? I must say, I still don’t miss it.” Linhardt yawned and stretched his arms above his head. “I don’t know what happened with you and your swordsman, but… what’s the polite way to say this?” He put a hand to his chin in thought. “You’re a disaster. And believe me, I only say that because you’re my friend.” 

All of his anger had vanished, and it left behind the painful vulnerability that had set him off in the first place. “You don’t get it, Lin. I kissed him, and he ran. He doesn’t want me. And honestly? I can’t blame him.”

Linhardt sighed and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Honestly, you people and your insecurities.” He lowered his head and shook it slowly. “Felix is hardly the type to be upfront about his feelings. It makes the two of you quite the pair. I stand by what I said. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some napping I’d like to do.” He turned without another word and headed to the door.

“Hey Lin?” The green-haired mage paused just before stepping through the doorway and looked over his shoulder. “I’m sorry about what I said. That wasn’t fair, and you really are my friend. You’ll always have a place here, no matter what.” Sylvain groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m such an asshole sometimes.”

Linhardt shrugged and replied, “I know.” Before shutting the door behind him.  


The next couple of weeks were used to get used to combat while riding a horse again. His legs had healed, but three weeks of bed rest, combined with not being as familiar with cavalier-style fighting anymore, made the transition difficult.

He missed Emery every single day.

Ashe helped him with his lance work while on horseback, having become quite the spectacular bow knight over the last few years. Sylvain even asked Annette to help him work on his reason skills a little more in the evenings when he wasn’t doing things for his father.

His nights were spent alone, thinking about Felix and how messed up things had gotten. He had sent multiple letters, trying to apologize and inviting him to come up and help with his training. Sylvain would do just about anything to have Felix here again, even get his ass kicked in training from sunup to sundown. 

However, Felix never responded. The messengers he sent always came back empty-handed. After the fifth letter, he gave up, figuring he was just going to make it worse if he continued to pressure Felix. Maybe if he gave him some time, they could go back to the way things used to be. Not that that was what he really wanted, but having Felix ignore him was making him realize he would take just about anything he could get. That was how deep this ran. It was terrifying.

His father called him into his study two months later. It was no longer unusual for such a thing to happen, so he didn’t think much of it. He knocked and entered when he was bid, only to freeze in his tracks. Sitting across from his father was Lord Rodrigue Fraldarius, and beside him sat a very angry looking Felix. 

“Finally! Come in and shut the door, will you?” His father was business as usual, obviously not picking up on the immediate tension in the room as Sylvain walked around to stand near his father, purposefully facing away from Felix and Lord Rodrigue.

He decided it was safest to get straight to the point. “What’s going on, father?”

“Hello Sylvain! It is so nice to see you are doing well. You had us very worried three months ago.” Lord Rodrigue had a calm smile on his face, probably straight up ignoring the fact that his son was positively seething beside him.

“Yes. It took me a while, but I feel I’m adjusting now.” _In more ways than one._ He cast a hesitant glance in Felix’s direction, but the swordsman had his legs crossed and had turned his face toward the opposite wall. His shoulders were back and tensed, and his hands were fisted in the loose sleeves of his coat. It really didn’t bode well for Sylvain, a fact that weighed heavily on his chest. 

He looked back to Rodrigue, who nodded sagely. “Yes. I heard about your mount. Ingrid informed me how special she was to you. I’m very sorry.”

Margrave Gautier cleared his throat, calling the attention back to business rather than his son’s feelings. _Figures._ “Lord Rodrigue has received a tip on a huge supply caravan that is making its way from Gaspard to Fhirdiad. The information was too important to send via messenger, so they have come here to strategize.”

“Strategize what exactly?” Sylvain raised an eyebrow and looked between his father and Lord Rodrigue. Felix was still looking pointedly at the other side of the room, still avoiding his gaze.

Lord Rodrigue’s eyes narrowed as he sat forward in his chair. “As you well know, Galatea is in a precarious position right now. Four years with very little aid is affecting the amount of troops they can provide for the rebellion, not to mention the struggles their citizens are facing.”

Sylvain nodded. Ingrid had just sent him a distraught letter the previous week, mourning the state her territory was in. “This supply caravan should have enough weapons and resources to bolster their forces, so they can use everything the territory has to sustain the people in their territory. Ingrid is busy with other matters, so Count Galatea has requested aid from Houses Gautier and Fraldarius in this matter.”

“Rodrigue and I have decided that you and Felix shall take control of this mission.” He turned to stare at his father who raised his eyebrow and leaned back against his chair. The look on his face was almost smug as he said, “I’m sure Count Galatea would appreciate a visit from you personally, son. You know how fond he is of you. And Ingrid is—”

“Father, do not forget what we have discussed.” Sylvain narrowed his eyes as his father shook his head.

“What a shame. Gautier resources would be valuable for the people of Galatea. We can only help so much with the way things are now, but if you were to marry…”

He was cut off by an angry scoff from Felix, who turned sharply toward the Margrave, but was stopped by a hand from Lord Rodrigue. The Lord of Fraldarius looked between his son and the Margrave as he said, “Now now, we have far more important things to discuss at the moment, such as the details of where you should plan the attack.”

Sylvain was grateful for the intervention, and listened as intently as he could while Lord Rodrigue pulled out a map and showed him the route his informant had tipped him to. The easiest place to hit would be just outside the Tailtean Plains, due to its proximate to rebellion territory and the absence of surrounding villages. The caravan would be heavily guarded, but Felix and Sylvain were given permission to pick the group to take with them. They would need to attack in nine days’ time, which was short notice, but not impossible.

They stayed in the study for what felt like hours, discussing and planning strategy and routes. Felix hardly said a word. The close proximate was making Sylvain’s chest ache, and it was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the map before him. 

Finally, Rodrigue sighed and sat back in his chair. “It is getting late. Perhaps we should rest and pick up further planning tomorrow morning.” He smiled up at Sylvain and added, “We will be staying for the next few days to iron out the details.” He looked pleased, like he was doing Sylvain a favor. Maybe he genuinely thought he was. He and Felix used to beg to spend more time in each other’s households, but that was close to a decade ago now. The frustration written all over Felix’s face said he wasn’t the only one who dreaded the coming weeks.

“I hope everything goes well. If you’ll excuse me, I have some things to take care of before I retire for the evening.” _Goddess that sounded so fake._ He couldn’t care about that right now. He gave Lord Rodrigue and his father a short bow before quickly leaving the study. Part of him held out hope that Felix would come out after him, but he knew that would never be the case.

It wasn’t. And because Sylvain wasn’t ready for the inevitable rejection, he planned to avoid Felix as much as he possibly could.

  
~Felix~

It had been five days, and Sylvain was avoiding him, as much as one possibly could while planning an assault together. It was quite possible the redhead hated him. It was to be expected, in fact, it was what Felix wanted… in theory. He had failed to account for the shame and guilt he would feel at every hurt glance Sylvain cast his way, though. He had also failed to prepare himself for the loneliness he would feel, being at such a close proximate to his friend.

Damn his father and this whole plan to the eternal flames.

The night after _“the incident”_ Felix had laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling as the floodgates of his mind seemed to open. Every good memory he had with Sylvain crept to the forefront of his mind. Their childhood games and laughter, sunny afternoon spent climbing trees together, Sylvain’s comforting arms holding him as he cried over one thing or another. He thought on all of the nights they spent curled together after sneaking into each other’s rooms. He remembered the feel of their fingers intertwined each morning when he awoke.

He remembered the night they found him in the well. He remembered the fear and frustration of being unable to help. He remembered the next morning, the helplessness he felt while watching Miklan choke Sylvain, and the joy he felt when Miklan was finally escorted away. He remembered the empty look in Sylvain’s eye, and how foreign it was compared to the beautiful eyes he was so used to, the ones that always seemed to be laughing.

He remembered the promise. He remembered the furrow in Sylvain’s brow, and his small hands on each side of Sylvain’s face as they promised their futures to one another.

The thought nearly took his breath away as he brought a hand to his forehead. That’s what he had meant, when he made Sylvain promise. He had been young and foolish, but he had wanted Sylvain’s safety and happiness more than anything in the world. He wondered whether Sylvain meant it back then, or if he only agreed because his younger friend wouldn’t stop crying like a foolish child if he didn’t. He wondered what Sylvain had really thought that day, but he supposed he would never really know.

He knew Sylvain was no longer the Sylvain of his youth, just as he was no longer the same Felix. This Sylvain was bothersome and foolish. He had a tendency to get himself into trouble, and a troublesome lack of self-preservation. He spoke pretty words, flattered everyone around him, and was hiding behind his bullshit mask most of the time. However, the moments he dropped his guard stuck out to him. As much as Sylvain used endless empty flattery to hide his true feelings from strangers, he also truly cared for his friends. He was always looking out for and protecting those he cared about.

After Byleth’s death, Sylvain had worked tirelessly to make sure everyone was alright, even though he was surely grieving himself. He had been there for Felix at every moment he needed him. He had held him as he cried, and assured him that it was alright. Even after Felix had done everything to insult Byleth and her memory a year later, Sylvain had still reached out to ask what was wrong.

Sylvain always seemed to know how he felt, even when Felix turned away. No one understood him like Sylvain did. No one else put up with him like Sylvain did. The thought was equal parts terrifying and comforting. And Sylvain had told him he would be by his side as long as Felix would have him. He had said it that very afternoon after… _the incident…_

The same _incident_ that played over and over in his mind, filling him with a mixture of desire and affection that twisted somewhere in his gut. He stared into the darkness of the room and pondered Sylvain’s hands in his hair, the feel of his lips on his own, the warmth that had run through him.

It was embarrassing and utterly foolish. 

When early sunlight began to filter beneath the curtains, he dressed and fled. During his ride back to Fraldarius he almost turned back so many times, but the fear and embarrassment spurned him on. He didn’t know how to face Sylvain anymore, not with all of the thoughts and irksome feelings he had twisted up inside of him. 

There was no way Sylvain felt the same. He had said himself that the last person he had felt that way for was Byleth, and that he found ways to distract himself from it. Felix had thrown himself into the war and fighting, while Sylvain had thrown himself into bed with Linhardt and who knew how many others. Sylvain hated being alone, he had been like that ever since they were children. 

Felix couldn’t be one of the multitude of people who had, and would, “keep him company”. The thought made his eyes burn and made his stomach twist until he thought he might retch. He also couldn’t think of a world in which he and Sylvain could be anything more than they had always been. Sylvain had his “duty” to fulfill, and Felix was hardly a person who could dole out affection and care. 

Sylvain deserved more than he thought he did. He deserved someone who could make him happy, someone who could give him comfort in the hard times and share in his joy in the good times. Felix hadn’t been that person for a long time. He just hoped that, with enough time, Sylvain would forget about it and they could go back to the way things used to be. If they both survived this goddess awful war, anyway.

Sylvain sent him letters apologizing profusely and, after four ignored letters, claiming that it didn’t mean anything. Sylvain claimed that the concussion and near-death experience had him acting rashly, and he meant no harm by kissing him. He begged Felix to forgive him, going so far as to beg him to come up and help him train in Gautier now that his leg had healed. It confirmed everything Felix feared, and he threw it in the fire before heading back into his own training.

Now he was here, stuck in Gautier with his old man, Sylvain, and Margrave “Asshole” Gautier. It was like the goddess had prepared his own personal hell, just for him… If he even believed in that sort of thing. It was the final day of preparation before they set off for Fraldarius to pick up Bernadetta and some of the more skilled Fraldarius knights the next morning. He and Sylvain would travel together for the next two weeks, and his skin was already crawling at the thought.

There was an annoying voice in the back of his mind that endlessly begged him to go and at least attempt to explain himself, or even just pretend things were normal, anything just break down this wall they had built between them. The rest of him found the idea utterly humiliating and promptly shoved the little voice back in its deep dark hole in the corner of his mind every time it popped up.

He was wandering back to his room after a night of planning, when he was distracted by the sound of singing. He followed it to the library, and peeked inside. Annette sat at a table with a tome before her, hair twirled around her finger as she sang one of her little ditties. Felix relaxed slightly and leaned against the outside of the doorway, listening in. It reminded him of simpler times at the Academy, like when he found her singing about food in the green house.

“Hiding again, Felix?” The singing stopped as Annette called over to him.

He shrugged. “Not hiding, just listening.”

She sighed heavily and shut her tome, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Are you going to tease me again?”

He shook his head with a small frown. “I never was trying to tease you. I just--” He put a hand to his forehead and stepped further into the library “—enjoy listening to you sing. I’m sorry I made you so upset back then.”

Annette’s eyes widened slightly, but then her features softened. She smiled softly and shook her head. She teased, “Maybe you aren’t as evil as I thought, Felix Fraldarius.” She giggled softly and Felix rolled his eyes. “Are you looking for Sylvain? I think he’s—”

“No. I’m not looking for him.” Annette abruptly stopped talking and he walked over to sit down at the table next to her.

“Are you guys okay? Sylvain’s been acting weird ever since he got injured, and Ashe and I are kind of worried about him.”

He pointedly ignored the first question. His tone was bitter as he said, “I’m not the person to ask about that. Maybe you should try talking to Linhardt.” 

She flushed slightly and shook her head. “They aren’t… that isn’t…” She shook her head a little and cocked it to the side. “Wait?! You knew about that?!”

Felix crossed his arms and scoffed. “Sylvain wasn’t exactly hiding the way he looks at him. They’re both lazy fools, anyhow. Maybe they’re meant for each other.”

Annette pursed her lips and looked to the side. “They aren’t like that, not anymore, anyway. And they may not work as hard as you do, but they are both smart in their own ways. I still go to Sylvain all the time when I run into problems with learning a new spell, and Linhardt really is a genius, even if he mostly sleeps all the time. You don’t need to be so harsh about it.”

 _They… aren’t?_ He batted off the confusion and sighed. “Whatever.” Annette rolled her eyes and Felix grumbled, “I’m sure he’s finding plenty of others to take Linhardt’s place.” It was a thought that had always bothered him. The tightness in his chest was now a good deal worse than it ever was at the Academy, though.

Annette furrowed her brows and pouted her lips. “You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird, it’s the truth. Besides, his philandering is annoying, and a total waste of time when we’re in the middle of a war.” He crossed his arms on the table and put his head down.

Annette sighed, but he didn’t look up to see what face she was making. “Sylvain’s flirting always used to bother me as well, but I realize now that he was doing it on purpose. Sylvain’s a really good guy, he just struggles with people’s expectations. I think he used to act that way because he WANTED people to think less of him. I don’t really know for sure, but I do know he’s changed a lot in the last couple of years, just like the rest of us have.” She paused for a moment and touched his arm. He raised his head and her big blue eyes were staring intently at him as she softly asked, “Are you okay? You know I’m here if you need to talk about anything.”

He grumbled, “I’m fine.” When her lower lip pouted slightly, he added in a softer tone, “Thanks, though. I’m going to head to bed. You’re going with us tomorrow, right?” She nodded and after saying their goodnights he walked back to his room.

That annoying voice in the back of his head was back, whispering that he should go and try to talk to Sylvain before they left. He ignored it, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the last time he was here, and how scared he had been when Sylvain was hurt. The image of Sylvain falling from the sky flashed before his mind, unbidden, and he buried his face in a pillow with a groan.

 _What if something happens to one of us? Do I really want him to hate me in the end?_ This plan was risky, but necessary. He knew it was important for Galatea, and especially for Ingrid, that they did this. That was the only reason he had agreed to come up here in the first place. But he couldn’t shake the fear building in his core of something happening to Sylvain. The next day was never promised, and he knew that, especially in the middle of a war.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of soft footsteps in the hallway. He lifted his head to listen as they shuffled outside his door, before hesitating and then starting to walk away. He leapt out of bed and threw open the door, sticking his head out just in time to see Sylvain’s shock of red hair retreating down the hallway.

At the sound of the door opening, Sylvain paused, but didn’t turn around. Felix stepped hesitantly into the hallway, with one hand still on the doorframe. Neither of them said anything, and Sylvain hadn’t even turned around. Felix opened and shut his mouth a few times, before finally spitting out, “Are you going to stand in the hallway like a creep, or are you going to come in?”

Sylvain stayed still for a few more moments, before finally turning to look at him. His voice was soft as he said, “I figured you wouldn’t want to speak to me.”

“I thought the same, but here you are.” Sylvain’s eyebrows rose for a second, before his features smoothed out as they normally did when he was caught off guard. He took a hesitant step forward and Felix scoffed before walking back into his room. Sylvain hurried in behind him, and he shut and locked the door.

Sylvain stared at the floor as he murmured. “I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I hate it when we fight, but I think I hate this even more.”

“I don’t hate you, idiot. Let’s just forget about it so we can focus on the mission.”

Sylvain’s head rose slowly before cocking to the side. Genuine confusion and vulnerability riddled his tone as he whispered, “But… you left… and you didn’t answer any of my letters.”

“We don’t need to talk about this.”

Sylvain stepped into his space, and he fought off the urge to step back. “Yes, we do.” Sylvain’s eyes stared into his until he couldn’t take it anymore and he looked away. “Why did you leave, Fe? Why didn’t you write? I’ve been going out of my mind for months now! Do you understand that?”

Felix scoffed bitterly. “And you think I haven’t been?”

“Then why did you go? Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why can’t we just talk about this?” Sylvain’s tone was desperate and pleading as he tried to put his hands on Felix’s shoulders, but Felix shook him off. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t have this conversation right now, or possibly ever. Most likely ever.

His tone was full of bite as he spat, “Because there’s no point in talking about it. You said it yourself, it didn’t mean anything. Let’s just forget it happened and move on.”

Sylvain was quite for a long time, and Felix began to shuffle his feet nervously. After what seemed like a lifetime Sylvain whispered, “If that’s what you really want, that’s what we’ll do.” Felix chanced a glance up at Sylvain’s face, and immediately regretted it.

Caramel-colored eyes were filled with sadness as they met his own. There was a crease between his brows that looked like it might never leave, and his mouth was pulled down in a frown. It was all so sincere, no façade and no pretending. Sylvain was showing him how he really felt, and Felix hated it.

Felix scoffed and crossed his arms as he took another step back. “Stop looking at me like some wounded puppy. This is all your fault. You kissed me, so you’re the one who started all of this.”

“You kissed me back!” Sylvain’s tone was desperate as he took a step forward, trying to get closer, but Felix took another step away to keep the safe distance between them. Being too close to Sylvain wasn’t going to help him keep a clear head. “After all these years, you kissed me back!” He let out an exasperated noise and fisted a hand in his hair “And then you ran away! You didn’t even say goodbye! Do you know how much that hurt? All I wanted to do was follow you and apologize, but I couldn’t.” 

Felix dropped his arms back to his sides and turned to look at Sylvain. He didn’t keep his incredulous tone at bay as he asked, “What are you even talking about “all these years”?” He tried to stamp down the light feeling in his chest. _Even if he meant it… he didn’t… they couldn’t…_

Sylvain groaned and turned toward the bed, stepping a few paces away. “Forget I said anything.”

Felix’s chest tightened and without thinking it through, he stomped forward and grabbed Sylvain’s elbow. As he pulled the taller man around to face him, he firmly said, “No. Tell me what you meant.”

The look on Sylvain’s face felt like a blow to his chest. Sylvain looked like he was in physical pain as he sadly whispered, “I thought you could never want me, not like that. Not that I could blame you, not after everything I’ve done. But then you kissed me back… and then you left and I—”

 _Why is it always the same self-deprecating bullshit?!_ Felix fisted his hand in Sylvain’s shirt and pulled, hard, crashing his lips into Sylvain’s. It was rougher than it should have been, his bottom lip somehow caught between their teeth and it throbbed when he pulled away and grumbled, “Shut up.”

Sylvain’s hands were on him before he even took a breath, one fisting in his hair and the other on his lower back pulling him closer. Sylvain was far more skilled at this than he was, but he tried not to think about that as Sylvain took the lead, deepening the kiss. He gasped as Sylvain tugged lightly on his hair, and Sylvain stroked his tongue lightly with his own. An involuntary shudder ran through him, and Sylvain groaned before kissing him with even greater fervor.

Sylvain’s hands wandered, straying beneath his sleepshirt and gliding across bare skin. Sparks seemed to shoot through him everywhere his large calloused hands touched, and Felix quickly became too overwhelmed by all of the sensations to do much of anything but follow Sylvain’s lead. 

Strong arms scooped under his thighs, and on instinct he wrapped his legs around Sylvain’s waist. They each groaned slightly at the pressure, and Sylvain’s lips left his. He bit back a pathetic whimper at the loss, but it was quickly replaced by a moan as Sylvain’s mouth traveled down his neck.

“So beautiful…” Sylvain’s mouth murmured against his skin as he walked them towards the bed. “Been wanting you forever…” 

He gasped as Sylvain quickly lowered them to the bed, but as Sylvain leaned over him Felix shot his hands out and splayed them across his chest. “Wait! No. This isn’t… we shouldn’t…” 

He threw an arm over his eyes with a groan and tried to catch his breath. Goddess… his head was spinning and his heart felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest. The pressure on top of him quickly left and he moved his arm to glance up at Sylvain who’s face reeked of vulnerability and a sliver of something like frustration as he stood above him.

“Fe, you can’t keep doing this to me. I can’t take it.” Sylvain’s tone had a hint of teasing, but his eyes were watering slightly as he ran a hand over his face.

Felix scoffed weakly and ran a hand through his thoroughly mussed hair. “I’m not going to “keep you company”. I’m not someone you can use and then throw away.”

Sylvain’s face was a perfect mixture of surprise and agony as he put a hand over his chest like he’d been struck. “That’s what you think this is? Do you really think I could do that to you?”

“You said the last one didn’t mean anything?” Felix failed to hide the quiver in his voice as the hurt flared in his chest.

“Because I thought I had lost you!” Sylvain was hovering over him again in an instant. His eyes were wide and pleading as his hands planted on both sides of Felix's head. “I was ready to take anything I could get. I couldn’t stand the thought that I had ruined this, that I ruined us.” He sighed wetly and Felix raised a hand to fist it in his shirt again. 

“I was scared.” Sylvain dropped his head to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, and he was grateful he didn’t have to make eye contact. He ran his fingers through copper-red waves as Sylvain planted hesitant kisses across his skin. “I shouldn’t have run, but I didn’t know how to be here with you anymore. I don’t know how to do any of this… I don’t know how to show you I care… I’m not—”

Sylvain’s face lifted to hover over his again, cutting off his train of thought. “But… you do... care?” Golden eyes searched his, and he closed his eyes as he nodded tightly. The words caught in his throat, but the relieved sigh that echoed above him told him Sylvain understood anyway, just like he always did. 

Felix woke up the next morning to the feel of strong arms around his waist and pressure against his back. His heart raced for a moment, until the memories from last night registered again. He tried to glance over his shoulder, but all he saw was a hint of copper-red waves. He slowly turned in Sylvain’s hold to look at him.

Freckled skin covered Sylvain’s chest and shoulders as he continued to sleep soundly. A small furrow rested in his brow, and Felix lifted a finger to smooth the crease in his skin. It eased and Sylvain’s eyelashes fluttered as he opened them slowly. It took a moment for him to realize what was happening, but when he did a smile brighter than the sun took over his face. It made heat rise in Felix’s cheeks and he tried to hide it in his hands.

“Fe… I—”

Felix moved his hands to either side of Sylvain’s face as he pressed a kiss to his lips. “We should get going so we’re not caught like this.” Sylvain’s eyebrows furrowed and a look of hurt crossed his face. “I just… don’t want to make a big deal of it right now. We’re still in the middle of the war, and if our fathers find out…”

Sylvain growled, “They can deal with it.” Sylvain’s eyes narrowed with a look of intensity that sent a thrill up his spine.

Felix sighed heavily and rested his forehead against Sylvain’s. “Please? Not right now… I don’t think I can take it. Let’s just take a chance to be just us first, before everything else comes to try and ruin it.”

Resignation fell across Sylvain’s features and Felix worried that he might have ruined this before it even started, but Sylvain subverted his expectations by pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead and whispering, “Just us doesn’t sound too bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... I'm not going to do any real smut in this fic. There will be implied sexual content, but I'm honestly just not good at it so I'm not even going to try. 
> 
> On a lighter note, Sylvain and Felix got to sleep in a tent together for the next two weeks and successfully completed the mission. The supplies were GREATLY appreciated by Ingrid and her family, making it totally worth it. I really didn't want to write another battle after the last chapter (RIP EMERY) but I needed an excuse to get these two knuckleheads together.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and the taste of where this story is ultimately going if you hadn't picked it up yet. Sorry if it wasn't what you were expecting.


	6. Chapter 6

~Sylvain~

_It’s the same dream he’s had too many times. He stands in the darkness and stares up at Byleth as she floats in front of him. Nothing has changed, he still sees the battered armor and ripped tights. He still sees the rise and fall of her chest, and the slight smile on her lips. It’s all the same._

_“I don’t know why I keep having this dream. It’s been almost five years since you’ve been gone. I have to… I think I have to let you go.”_

_He startles as a child-like voice calls out, “You fool!” He glances around frantically, searching for the source of the voice. “Must I explain everything to you? I told her that you must not continue to be fools, and yet here you are, still just as foolish as you were back then. Honestly! You are lucky she has a fondness for you, and by extension so do I.”_

_He calls back, “Who are you? What are you saying? I don’t understand!”_

_The voice sighs heavily, and the light begins to fade. The voice is softer, almost affectionate, as it says, “You will figure it out eventually, dear one. You must not give up. Byleth remembers her promise. I will do my best to make sure she keeps it.”_

He is woken up by frantic knocking at his door, and he buried his head in his pillow with a groan. _That was the weirdest dream._ “Sylvain! Sylvain have you seen this?!” Ashe’s voice frantically called through the wood of the door, and he slowly sat up and rolled out of bed.

He opened the door and tilted his head as he looked down at an overly excited Ashe and Annette. _It’s too early for this._ He sleepily grumbled, “Have I seen what?”

Ashe promptly shoved a paper in his face, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to read the scrawled handwriting. It was report from Charon territory. They’ve been keeping an eye on the area around Garreg Mach to make sure the Imperial army doesn’t approach from the south. Save a few skirmishes, the area has been relatively quiet. 

_Until now, apparently._

He read aloud, “An Imperial vanguard was sent in to investigate rumors of occupants at Garreg Mach. Rumors from nearby villages state that the soldiers in the vanguard were brutally slaughtered. None of them returned.”

He raised an eyebrow and dropped his hand back to his side, still clutching the paper between his fingers. “So what? It’s probably bandits, skilled ones, but still bandits.”

Annette’s face was the picture of determination as she exclaimed, “I think it’s His Highness!” Ashe nodded enthusiastically at her side.

His brain was still trying to catch up, still somewhat muggy from the weird dream and sleep. He hesitantly asked, “You think… His Highness is not only alive… but he’s at Garreg Mach?”

Ashe nodded enthusiastically. “Remember the One-Eyed Demon rumors? Remember what Felix said that day we went to get Annette? What if that’s him? What if he and Dedue are the ones at the monastery?! Besides, don’t you know what day it is?” When all Sylvain did was raise an eyebrow, he added, “In four days it will be the millennium festival! The Blue Lions made a promise that we would all return to Garreg Mach on the day of the millennium festival. They are keeping their promise!”

Something like yearning bloomed in his chest, before he quickly stamped it down and gave a weary sigh. “Ashe, Annette, it’s probably just bandits. Garreg Mach had several items of value, they are probably just plundering now because it has been abandoned for so long. Or maybe they are using it as a base, who knows? I’m sorry, but the chances of it being His Highness are slim to none.”

Annette and Ashe shared a long look between themselves, like they were having a conversation he couldn’t hear, before Ashe nodded solemnly. Annette wrung her hands in front of her chest and suddenly looked nervous. “It’s not just that…” Sylvain nodded and raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue as she bit her bottom lip. “Ashe and I, we each had a dream last night.”

His heart stalled in his chest as he stood up straighter. “You had a dream? And what does that have to do with His Highness and the monastery?” 

Ashe, too impatient with Annette’s hesitance, blurted out, “I think the Professor is waiting for us, too!” Annette nodded enthusiastically. Both of their eyes were wide and hopeful as they stared up at him. Something about the looks on their faces made him feel even worse about the fact that the next thing he said was going to crush their souls.

“I know you guys loved Byleth, and she loved you too. So so much. But it’s been almost five years and—”

“You don’t get it, Sylvain!” Frustration twisted Annette’s features as she huffed and clenched her fists at her sides. “The dream was about the Professor. Ashe and I had the same one. She was right there! We both think she’s alive.”

The air promptly left his lungs, and he slouched against the doorframe as he tried to regain his bearings. His voice was soft and breathless as he practically begged, “Tell me what you saw.”

Ashe quickly said, “It was like she was floating right there in front of me!”

Annette nodded and added, “Yeah! And she had the Sword of the Creator held to her chest. The Crest of Flames was all lit up in front of her.”

Ashe continued, “It looked like she was sleeping. She was breathing, I could see it!”

Annette blurted out, “And a voice said to remember the promise! We have to go, Sylvain! What’s the worst that could happen?”

 _We could get there and realize that it’s all been for nothing and I’ll have to deal with the fact that Byleth is really gone._ He couldn’t stop the rush of hope, yearning, and dread intermingling in his chest as he stared down at his shaking hands. It all felt too dangerous. He didn’t know if he would be able to handle it if they were wrong. 

His depressing train of thought was cut off when Annette took his free hand and squeezed it. “Did you not have the dream?”

He barely managed to whisper, “I’ve been having that dream for five years.” He couldn’t look at their faces. Would they pity him? Would they think he was crazy? He was crazy, he was definitely crazy.

His mind continued to race as he stared at the floor. _Could she really have been alive all this time? And I just… left her? Was that dream her, somehow calling out to me? Was it her asking me to come and find her? Did I just abandon her? Again?_

His thoughts were rapidly spiraling and his breathing started to quicken before Annette pulled him into a hug. She whispered against his chest, “We owe it to her to at least go and look, right?” When he calmed a little, she stepped back and gave him a soft smile.

Ashe nodded enthusiastically and grinned. “Maybe the others will come as well? We can pick up Felix, Bernadetta, and Ingrid on the way! It will be a little reunion. Besides, we have to keep our promise, even if they are gone.” 

_Shit… Felix._ It didn’t take a genius to realize the swordsman was not going to handle this well. The dread that was part of the scary mixture of emotions in his chest opened a pit in his stomach as he fisted a hand in his hair. If she’s alive… would Felix leave him? What would he do? He pushed the thought away. He couldn’t think about that right now.

Annette chirped, “I’ll write to Mercie as well! She can meet us there! Or maybe they all had the dream, too!” She clapped her hands, and jumped a little in her excitement. It would have been cute if Sylvain wasn’t FREAKING OUT. 

They both stared up at him, like they are waiting for his confirmation on their plan. 

“You are planning to go to Garreg Mach for the millennium festival?” All of them turn to see Linhardt walking down the hallway. “I must admit I’m curious. I’ve just had the strangest dream about the Professor. I think she might be alive… wouldn’t that be something?”

The fact that all three of them had the dream that had been haunting him for five years, solidified what he had to do. He turned back into his room, already walking to the wardrobe to grab his travel pack. He called over his shoulder, “Go pack some supplies. It looks like we’re heading to Garreg Mach.” 

_If you’re really out there… I’m coming, By._

~Felix~

One of the servants knocked on the open door of his father’s office and once they both turned their attention to him, he said, “Lord Felix, there are guests waiting for you downstairs.” 

The confusion on his father’s face matched his own. “I have guests? Who is it?”

“Lord Sylvain Gautier is here, with Lady Annette, Sir Ashe, and Mr. Linhardt.”

He didn’t make any immediate moves toward the door, as he was still processing what the servant said. _Why are they here? We didn’t plan a visit or anything. I haven’t seen Sylvain since that raid two months ago. And since…_ He fought off the warmth that was rushing to his cheeks and heavily cleared his throat.

His father stood up with an almost mischievous smile on his face, and walked toward the door. “Let’s go and see what they want, shall we?”

He grumbled, “They are here for me, old man.” 

His father only chuckled and strode out through the door. He called over his shoulder, “Oh Felix, just allow me to be curious, won’t you?”

Felix scoffed and rolled his eyes, but inevitably followed the old man out toward the entrance hall of their home. His friends were all in travel armor, but none of them seemed to have brought any bags with them. The warmth that filled his chest when his eyes landed on Sylvain would be borderline nauseating… if it didn’t make him want to smile just a bit. “What are you guys doing here?”

Annette sing-songed, “We’re here to pick up you and Bernie!” She swung her arms from side to side in the way she normally did when she was asking him to do something she knew he wouldn’t want to do. 

He didn’t like where this was going.

“M-me?” He turned slightly to see Bernadetta walking towards them. The servants must have notified her, as well. 

Felix planted a hand on his hip and gave Annette a blank stare. “What are you talking about? Why are you picking us up?” 

Ashe grin could light up a whole room, and Felix almost felt the urge to cover his eyes, as he said, “We’re going to Garreg Mach!” 

His father sounded quizzical as he asked, “And why are you going to Garreg Mach?” Felix had almost forgotten the old man was even there in the shock of seeing his friends.

Sylvain stepped forward and answered, “We made a promise to Byleth and His Highness that we would all return on the day of the millennium festival. We plan to keep that promise. We are hoping Felix and Bernadetta will come with us.”

The warm feeling in his chest died a painful death. Felix scoffed loudly, and with as much venom as he could muster, he grumbled, “You are all fools. They are both dead, and promises made to the dead mean absolutely nothing.” Sylvain cast him a look of concern, but he ignored it.

His father furrowed his brow and brought a hand to his chin in a way that always set Felix on edge. “I disagree. I think you should go, son.” 

_Of course, you do. It all falls under your same chivalrous nonsense. Just another thing we disagree on, it seems._ Felix wouldn’t bother to say that out loud, though. It wasn’t worth it. Instead he said, “This is pointless! It’s nearly three days of travel for nothing. Besides, the roads are more dangerous than ever right now.” 

Sylvain’s tone was hesitant as he asked, “Did you have the dream last night, Fe?”

His heart stalled for a moment as he stared at Sylvain. He failed to keep the surprise from his voice as he asked, “Dream? What dream?”

Linhardt yawned and answered before Sylvain could. “The dream about the Professor, of course. A voice said to remember the promise we made. All of us had it.” The lazy mage motioned toward the group of his friends, and Felix thought he might throw up.

Felix glanced back at Bernadetta, who’s eyes widened before she shook her head “no”. Annette called out, “Bernie didn’t make the promise, Felix. It was just the Blue Lions, remember? It was at dinner, the night you won the White Heron Cup!”

His father incredulously called, “You won the White Heron Cup?!”

Felix raised a hand to his forehead and stared at the ground. “Not now, old man.”

_“Why must you always be so difficult?! The other lion cubs understood what I meant the first time!” A frustrated huff rings through the darkness as he tries to walk away and wake up from this infernal dream like he always does. Instead, in a flash of green light, Byleth appeared in front of him again. “She made a promise. I will do my best to have her ready to keep her end, so you must keep yours.”_

_“She’s dead! You’re just my brain warping all of this into something it’s not. It’s the stress from the war and—”_

_“She is not dead, you dolt! She is alive, and she is waiting for you!”_

_The dream faded and he laid in bed for a long time, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with him._

“I don’t… I can’t…” When he glanced up from the floor, he realized that everyone was looking at him. His skin started to crawl as he looked over all of their hopeful faces. He couldn’t let himself get carried away by all of this. _It’s been almost five years! There’s no way she could be alive._

He looked to Sylvain and his tone was pathetically soft as he said, “You think… she might be…”

Sylvain was quiet for a moment before he finally said, “If there’s even half a chance, shouldn’t we at least try and find her?” 

Ashe added, “There’s also reports of—” He was cut off when Sylvain wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. Sylvain whispered something in the freckled archer’s ear, and Felix stepped closer with his eyes narrowed.

“Reports of what?”

Ashe chuckled nervously as Sylvain kept him close with a fake nonchalant grin spread across his face. “Reports of bandits. Loads of them. Even if we don’t find the Professor, we can help the local villagers by clearing them out. From what I hear, they are in pretty dire straits because the monastery is no longer inhabited. I’m sure they’d appreciate any help they could get.” 

“We should help them!” He turned, surprised at the even tone and determination in Bernadetta’s normally fearful eyes. “If no one else will, we should at least try. Can we go? Please, Felix?” She walked forward and squeezed his hand. “I didn’t make the promise, but if there is any chance the Professor is alive…” her eyes glazed with unshed tears before she shook them away. “I owe her everything. If it wasn’t for her—and you and your parents, of course-- I’d probably be dead or I’d be forced into fighting for Edelgard. We have to go and look for her!”

His father cleared his throat loudly and said, “Go and find your answers, son. I will take care of everything here while you are away. I will have my brother come and take care of your duties.”

Felix looked at all of the hopeful faces before him and sighed in resignation. He couldn’t let himself think she was actually alive. This had to be some sort of weird coincidence. It had been far too long for her to turn up alive. If she was, she would have come to find them by now, he was sure of it. He could at least go to look out for them when they all ultimately ended up disappointed. And they WOULD be disappointed. 

He grumbled, “Fine, let’s go.”

~Byleth~

_Flames surround her, and the smoke burns her lungs. Voices cry out for help, while others are praying to their goddess as they bleed out on the ground. She surveys the area, and her eyes immediately fixate on the Crest of Blaiddyd that decorates the carriages, banners, and shields._

_‘What is this?’_

_“I was already bound to you, Byleth. I could do nothing for the poor souls who cried out to me.” Sothis’ voice is somber as Byleth takes in her surroundings. Magic fills the air as a volley of fire spells rains down from the sky. A child cries out, and Byleth turns to run through the wreckage toward him._

_A blonde child cries over the decapitated body of his father. A knight with raven hair and blue eyes stands before him, gravelly wounded but still guarding his prince._

_‘Dima… Glenn…’_

_“Please, Goddess! He can’t be gone! He can’t leave me! Bring him back! Please!” The child sobs and screams over the decapitated body as her heart splits in two._

_The knight grimaces before grabbing the arm of the Crowned Prince. “You must survive, Dima. We need to get you away from here.” The boy snivels, still staring down at the gruesome corpse of his father. Glenn shakes Dimitri to alertness. “If you die, Faerghus will fall! If you fall, this will all be for nothing!” Glenn drags him through the wreckage of burning carriages and corpses as the boy, pale and trembling, closely follows._

_Shouts from the enemy sound out behind them, and as the boy whimpers, Glenn grits his teeth. “Run, Dima! We have to run!”_

_They weave through the destruction, and Glenn is forced to stop and face their enemies. The look of determination on his face pulls at her heart, and she steps closer to the fighting. The boy, Dima, cowers behind him as he whimpers for his father and stares at the surrounding bodies in horror._

_A horse whinnies on the road before them, and a familiar ginger knight leaps from the saddle. He charges into the fray, axe held high. When they succeed in fighting off the assailants, shouts can be heard from further away. Magic fills the air again as Glenn shouts, “Gustave! You have to get him out of here. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.” He pushes a trembling Dimitri into the ginger knight’s arms._

_Dimitri cries as Gustave drags him onto the horse, “NO! Glenn! Stay with me! NO! Don’t leave me!”_

_Glenn was already charging back toward the group of mages wearing masks that look like a bird’s beak. Fury builds in her chest as Glenn lets out a battle cry. A massive dark magic spell launches forward, and Glenn falls. She runs forward, calling on healing power as she kneels beside him. Nothing comes and her vision blurs as she watches him gasp for air._

_The sound of laughter forces her gaze away from the fallen. A familiar man with long dark hair stands surveying the wreckage with a trembling woman at his side. “You failed to provide us the boy.”_

_“He’s just a child! Please brother--” Her words are silenced when his image falls away, and is replaced by that of the mage she has been searching for. She reaches within herself for power, but finds nothing that she can do to stop what is happening before her._

_The woman’s eyes widen as she stumbles backward. “Who… who are you? Where is Volkhard?!”_

_The mage chuckles darkly as pink light surrounds them. “Volkhard is dead. Don’t worry, you’ll join him soon.” The woman screams as they disappear in a flash of light._

_Sothis appears before her. “My enemies have kept themselves hidden. They work solely in the dark, creating chaos and heartbreak with every move they make. This cannot stand. You must use my power to stop them, Byleth. You must use my power to bring Fodlan peace. You must prevail, where I failed.”_

_The images before her fade into darkness once more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's the timeskip, y'all!
> 
> Still working on what I want to title the post-timeskip phase. The first couple chapters are coming together, but they're coming together slowly because there's an awful lot of details I need to sort off first.
> 
> Anyway... I hope you liked the chapter.


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